


radio midnight blues

by pepsipink



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Eventual Relationships, F/F, F/M, Gen, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Slow Build, Uncle Dante yeehaw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-05-17 19:55:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 46,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5883556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepsipink/pseuds/pepsipink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new cult decides to expose themselves after being dormant for nearly two decades - and Dante simply can't help but get involved. It's time to save the world, one last time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mission 01

**Author's Note:**

> WHERE do i begin.  
> i guess - if you're frightened of the Dante/OC tag, u just gotta trust me it's gonna be ok man just trust me
> 
> So, hello there! I've been a massive DMC fan for like? idk 10 years now (im getting old) & after beating the series a good 6 times Back In The Day™ i took like, a 7 year long break. THEN DMC4SE came out and I got trapped here once again, and I've been binge playing/watching/reading all the content that I used to love so dearly.
> 
> I really love this series, sincerely, and I want to do it justice by writing up a plot to show my appreciation to the universe I've grown so attached to.
> 
> This got long & sentimental so I'm gonna go ahead & get started.
> 
> This fic also takes the anime into account (i think it's canon anyway?) & yes, i'm on board with Nero being Vergil's son, hence the "Uncle Dante" tag I've got up there.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“Are you … are you the one in charge of Devil May Cry?”

 A disheveled middle aged man stands in the doorway, holding his hat to his chest. He seems disturbed, hell, he’s shaking, and Dante can only imagine why. Demons had been slipping into the human realm less and less ever since the incident in Fortuna.

 Rumors of Dante and his newly discovered nephew completely beating the piss out of any demon that dared to cause a disturbance while they were around surely had scared many of those who defied Sparda’s will of harmony between human and demon. Dante didn’t necessarily mind the peace and quiet, though it made for a pretty poor way of making a living.

 The man steps forward, finally catching the aging demon hunter’s attention. Dante looks up from his magazine, meeting the man’s frightened gaze.

 “I always hate it when people walk in right before I close, you know.”

 “Forgive me… but I’m afraid I’ve seen something that threatens the peace within our community.” He’s practically shaking in his boots. “I’ll pay you whatever you want to get rid of it…”

 Truthfully, this man was being far too vague for Dante to take him seriously. People came into his shop all the time with _strange occurrences_ they’ve seen, only for the occurrences to be absolutely nothing at all. But hardly any of them offered money for lesser jobs such as these. If he was willing to pay, it might’ve been worth checking out.

 Dante stands up, weaponry already in hand, shooting the old man a grin.

 “Alright, tell me where this little devil is. I’ll take ‘em out for you.” 

* * *

_Alright, so a humanoid creature surrounded by flowers… in the middle of a concrete staircase…_

At this point, Dante doesn’t know if the man was joking or not. Luckily, he was paid upfront, for some god awful reason, so under the condition that this was just some situation taken completely out of context, Dante didn’t really have to give too much of a shit. He got his money, and he didn’t have Lady on his trail trying to tear it out from underneath him.

Dante’s beloved shitty town was normally pretty quiet at nights, and tonight really wasn’t any different. He didn’t even pick up any strange scents either. This mysterious flower creature was sure turning out to be a dud.

He approaches the library when something finally catches his eye.

“Well. Looks like the old man wasn’t lying after all.”

He laughs to himself, seeing the streetlight flicker above what appeared to be a young woman. She’s surrounded by piles of books, _fitting_ , but, true to the man’s word, she’s surrounded by purple flowers, _hyacinths,_ if he remembers correctly. She’s sitting on the stairs leading up to the library, completely concrete. Okay, so that’s _kind_ of weird, but all she’s doing is reading a damn book.

She doesn’t have any strange scent or aura, hell, she doesn’t even notice Dante standing five feet away from her. With a giant ass sword.

Dante was _sure_ that he was the type of guy you would cross the street for just to avoid him, but she’s not budging.

Dante strides closer, cautiously approaching the staircase, trying to get a better look at the young woman, sitting here, alone in the dark. The books she’s surrounded by are mythology, Shakespeare, it’s all Greek, books on nature. At least 10 books in her immediate location.

“They kick you out of the library or something? This town has a big nightlife a bit further downtown, so I’m surprised anything closes before 9.”

The woman jumps at the sound of his voice, shutting the book closed harshly, as if she were afraid this man would scold her for reading fucking _Hamlet_. Almost immediately after, all the flowers she’s surrounded by completely retract, wither and die within mere seconds. _Now that’s weird_.

“Why are you sitting out here so late at night?”

“Why are you approaching a vulnerable woman who clearly wants to be left to her business?”

Her voice has a bit of an accent, a very light one, at that. European, without a doubt, but her tanned skin seems to give away that she’s probably not from around here.

“Yikes. Okay, I guess you’re not wrong. Sorry, just had a few people tell me that they saw some _suspicious creature_ creating flowers out of literally nothing sitting here in front of the library. I mean, I can clearly see that you’re neither suspicious, nor a creature, but that’s a pretty weird thing you’ve got going on there.” Dante plops on the staircase next to her, resting Rebellion on his lap. “I’m really not one to judge, but you ever get that checked out?”

The woman kind of laughs, humored by Dante’s confusion. His goal for now? Not seem like some creepy stalker looking to get some. His days of picking up women were long over, kind of. Now wasn’t the time, anyway, and he wanted her to be sure of that.

“No, it’s not an illness. The whole flower thing… I really don’t know how that happens – but I figured at least one library in this country should have some information on it.”

Dante watches her as she runs her hand through her hair. It’s _very_ long, pooling on the staircase behind her. Pale blonde in color, layered in a way that made her look like she was part swan or something. She’s mesmerizing, but Dante _knows_ that she’s not threatening. She’s no succubus, no demon, she’s human. She’s nothing more than human.

“So, to do your research, you read… mythology? And _A Midsummer’s Night Dream_. Not very scientific, don’t you think?”

He feels like a goddamn hypocrite, picking out these works of fiction when his own life is rumored to be one. _Sparda’s legacy_ , no proof of his old man being a real thing. (Well, there was tons of proof, but humans were the masters of denial.) Dante’s parents are a myth, Dante is a myth, Nero is a myth. This woman? Well, maybe she’s a myth too.

“I don’t know…” She sighs, placing her book on her _pile_ of books. “Reading this stuff… it makes me feel validated. Sure, these creatures may be fiction, but I’m just like them… I don’t know many people who have abilities like me – these books make me feel a little less lonely. Surely you understand, strange man with large weapon?”

Dante laughs, pushing himself back onto his feet. He’s certainly towering above her, yet he leans in and holds his hand out to the young woman.

“Fair enough. Instead of _strange man with large weapon,_ you can call me Dante. I come in peace, I swear.”

“Dante…” Much to his surprise, the woman takes his hand, allowing him to help her up. Dante is _completely_ taken aback when she only reaches up to his chest. She’s _tiny_ , and he had _no_ idea why he wasn’t anticipating that.

“I don’t want to burst your bubble, shortie, but the reason I approached you was because someone wanted me to, uh, for lack of a better word, kill you. He saw you make those flowers and told me you were a demon, and I just want to make sure my quaint little community is safe, yunno?” Dante bends over, picking up the young woman’s books in his arms. “I think it’d be a good idea if you at least came with me for the night, just in case some angry towns people come looking for you.”

“Is this how you usually pick up women?”

_No_.

“Like I said, I come in peace. This guy wanted me to _kill_ you. But you’re clearly this innocent little fairy person. I just want to offer you a safe space for the night. You’re free to leave in the morning.”

“Someone… really wanted to kill me?”

“It happens to the best of us.” He sighs, turning away from her as he makes his way down the staircase. “I don’t bite. I’ve got a guest room – with a lock, don’t worry.” _Ever since Trish moved in with the cause of his goddamn **debt**_. “I wanna hear more about your _findings_. Shit like that’s interesting to me.”

He hears a pair of heels click on the ground as she runs to his side, incredibly long blonde hair dancing in the wind when she catches up to him.

“Thank you, Dante. That’s quite nice of you.”

“Ah well… guy who approached me is kind of a scumbag anyway. I don’t like snitches.” He stops, looking down at the woman. “Uh. What’s your name? I introduced myself without even being asked, like an _asshole_.”

The woman smiles in response, tilting her head to the side.

“Featherine.”

“Feather- _what?”_

* * *

 

Dante’s office was literally in no shape to have guests. It never really was, but most people never got past the desk. He didn’t really _care_ too much about people’s opinions on how messy his work space was, but he sorta felt bad for this innocent woman who was willingly walking into his dusty, filthy, smelly building. 

Well, it didn’t smell bad. It smelled like pizza. It always did, but Dante _liked_ the smell, so he never tried too hard to get rid of it.

Back five or six years ago, he had his lovely little helper, the wonderful Patty Lowell, to do all that cleaning for him. And she did drop by every now and then, but she was a busy girl these days, marketing cute clothing for young girls and donating practically all of her cash to the orphanage she grew up in. He wasn’t going to complain about it, though, girl had a hard life and she was finally living the way she deserved to.

Regardless, his office was a fucking mess.

He half expects Featherine to flinch when he flicks on the light switch, revealing empty bottles of beer and wine littered throughout the floor, and an entire corner dedicated to pizza boxes and other assortments of takeout. She’s not phased, though, and she simply walks right in, standing in front of his desk as she observes the area with violet eyes.

She’s shy, he thinks. She kind of just stands still, unsure of what to do with herself. Well, she’s shy or disgusted – but Dante always made it a point to keep the couch clean. He likes to sleep there, after all.

“Make yourself at home. I usually stay up pretty late, but if you’re tired from all your traveling I can like… point you in the direction of the shower.” Dante cocks an eyebrow, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on the back of his desk chair. “My old roommate left a bunch of her shit here, so if you need to use any of it, feel free.”

“What kind of business do you run?”

Featherine practically ignores everything that he’s said, and Dante’s into it. She strolls over to his jukebox, running her fingers along the buttons.

“ _That’s_ a bit of a secret. Odd jobs, I guess.” Dante watches her, making her rounds throughout his office. The way she explores reminds him of the way any suspicious client would, but there’s more genuine curiosity in her body language than malice. Dante just wants to get past the awkward feeling in the air. He was usually better at this, but something about her made him just want to shut his goddamn mouth.

“I seek out paranormal disturbances. Not like, ghosts and shit.”

“More like evil, slipping through the cracks.” She finishes his sentence for him, turning with a gentile smile on her face. “With a name like _Devil May Cry,_ I can only imagine that it _is_ devils you’re dealing with.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, making his way to the minifridge he kept outside of his completely unused kitchen. Two cans of beer, he grabs, taking them back to his sofa.

“Well, aren’t you observant?” Dante drops onto the couch, kicking his feet onto the coffee table, taking care to not knock over the unopened can of beer he had gotten for the young woman. “I got you a drink, if you want. I got other stuff if alcohol’s not your style.”

“Beer’s fine, thank you.”

She’s _polite_. Dante hated comparing women to Lady and Trish but he had a terrible habit of it. His two female companions would have completely torn into him by now, eaten his food, raided his fridge, and left without saying a single word to him. Not that he didn’t mind it, he did find it quite endearing that the three of them were simply able to _bond_ like that.

Maybe Dante was so uncomfortable with the situation because Featherine is the first woman he’s met in _years_ who didn’t immediately try to shoot him in the face. He doesn’t really _know_ what to do. She’s small, and rather helpless. She’s quiet, and curious. Dante’s wondering when something’s gonna go wrong, because this situation is too calm for him to be comfortable.

Featherine takes a seat about a cushion over, cracking the can open using her nails, decorated in pink and covered in glitter. God, and he feels _so_ weird for looking at practically every detail of her body but she’s otherworldly. She’s something new.

“As you can imagine, with all the reading I do, I’m pretty fond of the legends regarding practically _anything_ that isn’t human. I’m not stupid, I know there’s evil lurking about practically everywhere. I’ve seen demons, I see them a lot, actually.”

“So you don’t consider them myths?”

“Not at all.”

Well, how could she? She’s got these abilities that make her different from any normal human. Dante finds himself sort of relating to her feelings on the matter. He never cared much for his father’s legends, even knowing that they were all true, but after finally accepting his demon heritage, it was validating knowing that he wasn’t the only one.

Featherine was looking for her place in life.

“Well, I think I should explain a bit more. My story’s kind of boring, but I don’t really get to tell anybody.”

She’s awfully stiff when she says those words, gripping tightly onto her drink as she focuses on the floor. Dante just sinks further into the couch, turning his head to get a better look at her.

“You’ve been traveling for a while, I take it?”

She purses her lips, nodding her head.

“You investigate paranormal disturbances you said, so maybe you’ll know more than I do.”

“Ah, probably not.”

“Alright – well.” Featherine takes a deep breath, side eyeing Dante as she brings the can of beer to her lips, jolting her head backwards as she chugs the whole thing down. Dante furrows his eyebrows as he watches her, ten times more interested in whatever she was going to say now that she was literally finishing off her drink in one swig. He pushes himself up, and wonders if he should go get her another one.

Because _damn_.

He opens his mouth to ask, but she’s already started on her story.

“My childhood was normal. Incredibly normal, nothing interesting to it. My parents were both involved in my life, I had a younger sister. My grandmother on my mother’s side lived with us too. Three cats. Spanish is my first language – I don’t speak it much anymore, but I’m sure what’s left of my accent caught your attention, didn’t it?”

“Little bit. But I don’t get out much. I’m uncultured.” He snorts, meeting Featherine’s gaze.

“So, years ago, I’m thirteen. We live in the country side, so we’re pretty secluded, but my family helped injured wildlife for a living. It worked. A lot of people came to us because we seemed to have this _magic touch_ with animals. My mother was a regular Snow White. But because we were so far, we didn’t know much about our town and what the people were saying in it. Hell, I still don’t know what they were saying, but we were just trying to help. I don’t know why people would’ve thought us out to be _evil_.”

Dante already knew that something was up with her story. Her body language changed a bit, too. She placed her drink down on the coffee table and rested her hands on her knees. Dante straightens his posture, resisting the urge to place a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m thirteen and a group of, I dunno, ten, fifteen people crash through our windows. They’re yelling … _really_ weird things at us. I was able to get out of sight when it happened, and when they started unloading onto my family, I made a run for it.”

He was anticipating that the story would take this turn, and goddamn it hit home. The day his mother died wasn’t something he dwelled on too much, he didn’t allow himself to. If he did, he probably wouldn’t have been alive, he wouldn’t have gotten anything done, and his family’s tragedy would’ve been for nothing.

But he knew that not everyone was fortunate to have the same drive that he did.

“I got pretty far, too. But, the country side doesn’t have many places to hide. I’m halfway to the city, but halfway to the city is still nothing but farmland. They find me, and they take me back to their headquarters, which is god knows where. I’m tortured, experimented on, and they’re getting so _angry_ at me because I’m not giving them the results they’re expecting.”

“What were they expecting?”

“I don’t really know. They thought I was going to have super human resistance to pain, maybe transform into something not human. But I never did. I was there for about a year, and more than likely on the brink of death. I don’t remember too well.”

Well, Featherine had _one_ thing on him. Experimentation wasn’t crossed off of his list yet. _Yet_.

“One day I discovered a cat, walking through where I was being kept. I called the cat over, but it ignored me, completely. But then, and this all happened so quickly, the cat attacks the people who are keeping watch. It’s vicious, and it goes directly for their eyes.”

“Jesus.”

Featherine laughs, pushing her hair out of her face. She looks back to Dante, shrugging her shoulders.

“Next thing I know, I’m sprouting thorns from my wrist, breaking my bindings. They make me bleed, but I’m _free_ – so I run. I take the hell off, and nobody follows me. I turn up a few cities away from this one. The police take me in but I can’t tell them anything that happened, they wont believe me. I let them put me in a foster home. Everything’s going to be okay for me, but now my emotions apparently can manipulate wildlife, and I can grow flowers out of my hands and feet.”

_This has to be a joke_ , he initially thinks, but reassures himself that that’s a stupid thought. But sometimes shit just happens like that. Dante’s literally been swallowed alive and has fought giant floating statues before. If anything, Featherine’s story is mundane.

“In greek mythology, people like me are called _Anthousai_. Flower nymphs. But it’s mythology, not real, I figure. But that’s the only explanation for my abilities. Other than being able to do those two things, I’m completely human. There’s nothing setting me apart from you.”

_Hah_.

“What I think, at least, is that these people did exist. Hundreds of years ago. But with human reproduction and what not, they probably began to fade out, go extinct. I think my grandmother, mother, sister and I are descendants from them. Maybe we were just never aware of it, but we always had an affinity for nature. Maybe being in such a desperate state like that just… awakened my abilities.”

“I think that makes sense.”

She sits up, eyes wide as she stares back at Dante. He can’t imagine that she’s told this story to _anybody_ before when he gives her that look of sheer disbelief that he _believes_ her.

“It does?”

Dante stands up, stretching out his back. What he _is_ surprised about is that she trusted him enough to tell this story. They hadn’t even known each other for a full 24 hours, and she’s pouring her heart out to him. He feels like he owes her something in return, but that can wait. It’s late, and she’s probably had a rough day of reading.

“Sure it does. I’ve never met anybody who was anything other than human or demon, but I’ve literally been in the demonic realm before, so why the fuck wouldn’t a flower nymph be real? It makes perfect sense.”

“You aren’t joking… are you?”

“Absolutely not.” He keeps as straight of a face as he possibly can. “You wanna learn about yourself. I respect that. After what you’ve been through, I really can’t blame you. I’d do the same.”

She folds her hands in her lap, licking her lips as she thinks of what to say.

“I do want to learn…”

“Hey, I tell you what. Investigating’s what I do for a living. Business is really slow, so let me help you. I ain’t got anything else going on.”

“You don’t have to do that… I mean, I’m not really expecting my research to turn up to anything… I’m not looking for revenge.”

“I’m not asking you to avenge your family. What you told me was interesting. If I can help you get answers, well, that’s enough for me.”

A smile spreads across her face, and she looks genuinely happy that Dante has offered his assistance. _Still got it_.

But in truth, Dante had _no_ idea that people like her existed. It’s only in his nature to be curious about it, and with this mysterious group of people that slaughtered her family, he’s sure that it’s not over. Maybe she doesn’t want revenge, but at least in Dante’s experience, it’s never a good idea to leave a group of murderers to their own activities.

“Listen, there’s a place not too far from here. I’ve got a nephew who knows the place really well – maybe tomorrow we can drive down there and see if his library’s got anything for you. I mean, if his library’s still standing.”

Featherine cocks an eyebrow.

“Ah, the whole Fortuna ordeal that happened like, six months ago.” He explains. “It should be fine. What do you say?”

“I’d like that, actually.”

“Cool. I’ll call him up tomorrow and let him know we’re coming. You gonna head to bed now?”

The young woman stands up, approaching Dante in hopes of being lead to her room. She’s a lot more relaxed now, and seems a lot more willing to spend the night. Not that Dante would’ve forced her to stay, but he did want to keep her safe.

“Okay, before that, though – you gotta tell me. Featherine is a … _very_ unique name. What the hell kind of name is it?”

“I guess you didn’t have hippie parents, did you?”

“Hippies? I get it. C’mon, I’ll give you the grand tour, _Featherine_.”


	2. Mission 02

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the record i have no idea if this is gonna be 20 chapters or not but im tryin to stick with the spirit of the game so im gonna stay hopeful
> 
> sorry for all the exposition things will pick up soon!

Fortuna was Nero’s only home. He couldn’t imagine living anywhere else, and he didn’t _want_ to live anywhere else. Sure, up until he defeated Sanctus, he was always treated like an outcast and had to deal with the trauma of being bullied as a child because he was an orphan. But despite all the bad memories, he had a lot of good ones. The good greatly outweighed the bad, and he proudly declared his love for his home town.

But partially being the cause of all of the destruction that happened not too long ago, had it’s downsides.

For one, rebuilding this town was super goddamn frustrating.

Not that he didn’t want to, and not that he didn’t feel joy from helping his community put themselves back together, but most days, the guilt was just too much to bear. He could hardly get himself out of bed in the morning.

He figured, saving the world would’ve been the best part of his still relatively short lifetime, that it would’ve cured all the insecurities he had about himself, and that people would’ve looked at his arm and _accepted_ him, but gratitude only got you so far.

Kyrie didn’t see him as a monster, and for that he was grateful, but he still had to carry the blame for a lot of what went down. And that sucked.

Today wasn’t really any different, but Nero knew it would be best to hang back. Kyrie encouraged it, told him he needed to relax, love himself a little bit more. So he promised her that was what he would do.

_And then_ he gets a call from Dante.

Dante was family. Dante and his two lovely female companions made Nero feel tons happier than he was really used to. Having his wonderful girlfriend around was more than enough positivity for him, but being around family he never knew he had opened a new door for young Nero. Being alone all your life with these strange abilities and these strange powers that alienated you from your peers was terrible, but then you learn that there’s this small group of people that don't only accept you, but that they went through practically the same thing he did – and it feels _validating_.

Sure, he was raised in a loving home with Kyrie and Credo with their parents, and he adored them to pieces, but he never quite felt that family bond with them. He knew something set him apart from them.

But Dante shows up with all of this information, he tells Nero that they’re _the same_. Everything changed from that moment on.

Dante really doesn’t stop by too often. They’re separated from each other by at least an hour and a half by car, so he doesn’t blame him. But Nero calls when he needs help, and Dante calls just to ask how he’s doing, (though most of the time he’s drunk.)

Considering Dante was calling around _noon_ , Nero’s a bit more enthusiastic to answer the phone. _Normal people don’t usually get drunk until evening, but Dante’s not normal people._

Luckily, Dante isn’t drunk, and announces that he’s stopping by with someone who needs to check out their library, as long as it’s still standing.

It is, thankfully, and Dante will be here in two hours, he says.

He wonders who this person he’s bringing is, since things have been pretty quiet since all the portals to the demon realm have been sealed in his town, but he can’t complain if it means his cool uncle is coming for a visit.

Though he’d never admit it, Nero looks up to Dante, wants to know more about him. Wants to learn more about their family, about Sparda. Nero wants to learn about his own father, too. He knows things didn’t end too well regarding him and Dante, but it’s still nice to put a face and a personality to this mysterious being who helped bring Nero into this world, and granted him the power of Yamato.

Even if the face of his father is… technically the face of Dante, too. Identical twins were a weird concept to grasp when your uncle looked exactly like his brother, your father.

Nero doesn’t think that Dante’s going to really be spending too much time in his and Kyrie’s apartment, but he spends all afternoon cleaning regardless, (thank god for his devil bringer getting that job done) and eagerly awaits for his arrival.

“Oi, Nero!”

Ah, right. _Dante has keys_.

Nero’s in his bedroom when he hears his uncle stroll in without even knocking. Typical, he should’ve expected that. The young man shyly pokes his head out of the door, seeing Dante hang his coat up by the front door. _Thank god, Kyrie would’ve been pissed if he hadn’t_.

“I hate that you don’t knock, like, ever.” Nero grumbles, stepping out into the hallway as he goes to approach his only family. He halts, mid-step when he sees a woman he’s never seen before, though. She’s standing behind Dante, looking around with a nervous glint in her eyes.

She _must_ be human, he thinks, because she’s not giving off any peculiar scents.

(Being able to _smell_ weird things about people was probably the worst thing about his abilities. He didn’t know how Dante had potentially lived with that his _entire life.)_

He licks his lips, tugging his sleeve down over his arm, even though it always felt weird and uncomfortable to keep it covered. The last thing he wants to do is scare this five foot tall woman out of his home.

“You shouldn’t have given me keys, then.” Dante remarks, like the smartass that he is. Nero’s positive that even if he hadn’t given him 24/7 access to his home, Dante would’ve found every possible way to avoid using the door simply because he was that frustrating.

“Is this your _someone_?” Nero asks, and figures he’s probably being rude. “Uh, I mean – Dante said he was bringing a guest so I can only assume that was you.”

The blonde woman nods, a kind smile on her face. _Why_ is she hanging around _Dante_ of all people.

“Nero, this is Featherine. Featherine, this is my nephew, Nero.”

Featherine reaches her hand out to shake Nero’s. His _right_ hand, of course. Instead of returning the gesture, he fucking _bows_ , causing Dante to fucking burst out into laughter at how goddamn awkward he’s being.

_Family_.

“U-Uh. It’s nice to meet you. You said you wanted to check out our library, right? I gotta warn you, it’s huge. We’ve got a lot of weird crap in there thanks to our old crazy priest. I can’t promise you we’ll have what you want, but there’s a good chance we might.” Nero rambles, holding his devil arm behind his back, trying his best to seem as unsuspicious as possible.

This small woman has the most friendliest face he’s seen in a long time. She has no idea why Dante’s laughing, but seems to whole heartedly accept that Nero didn’t shake her hand for a reason that he’s too embarrassed to explain, right now.

“Featherine here is looking for information regarding mythology. You got any of that?”

Nero snorts, “I’m pretty sure we have a whole floor dedicated to just that.”

“Perfect!” Featherine claps her hands together, finally speaking after letting Dante talk _for_ her. Maybe she’s shy. Nero can relate. “I’ve been traveling to libraries all around the country, but I haven’t found anything too new recently. I was hoping I would find something interesting here.”

He can’t help but smile, though. She seems enthusiastic and hopeful. Nero doesn’t want to let her down.

“You see, I think that a lot of the creatures in mythology aren’t really myths at all.”

“Why’s that?”

She holds her hand out in front of Nero, fingers suddenly being entwined in vines, sprouting flowers out of complete nothingness.

“Well, shit.”

* * *

 

Nero was not particularly fond of reading, so the library was probably the last place one would be able to find him. On their relatively short walk, many of the towns people gave him weird looks, only embarrassing him further. 

_Nero? Why are **you** headed to the **library**?_

It was annoying.

Dante and Featherine kept their mouths shut for the most part, though he heard quite a few wicked snorts come out of his dickhead of an uncle.

Being around scholarly material often just made Nero uncomfortable, considering he was never good in school and was constantly just barely passing all of his required learning. But on the bright side, he wasn't here for himself.

The Fortuna library was fucking huge and made his two companions stop in their tracks just so they could grasp how absolutely large it was.

“Okay.” Dante places his hands behind his head, cocking an eyebrow as he thinks of something to say, to no avail.

“There’s a directory in there, don’t worry.”

“This is the biggest library I’ve been to yet,” Says Featherine, “Why haven’t I heard of this place before?”

“Well, we’re a pretty conservative town… we hardly have tourists. A lot of people don’t know this place even exists.”

“I sure as hell didn’t when all that shit was goin’ down.”

Nero can only shrug. He doesn’t blame them, after all, the only thing the town really had going for them was their super obsessive everything involving Sparda. And that was pretty much all over.

He leads the two into the building, finding that it’s nearly completely empty. They need to head to the third floor, but Featherine assures them that she wont torture them by making them help. She’s just going to browse, and Dante and Nero can relax while she does this.

“Nero, c’mon, let’s have a chat.”

He’s sort of weirded out when Dante grabs him by the arm and pulls him away from Featherine’s endeavors. This is really the first time they’ve had any leisurely time to… bond with each other, so maybe Dante’s going to reveal his true, caring side. Well, probably not, but Nero laughs at the idea anyway.

“How’s Kyrie?” Is the first thing he asks.

Now Nero’s even more concerned because Dante’s… being engaged with his life.

“Uh – she’s good. She’s out preparing for some kind of festival that’s gonna be happening in like, a week.” He shrugs, taking a seat on one of the many loveseats scattered throughout the area. “I’ve been helping too but I was kinda out of it today so she told me to hang back.”

“Yeah, she’s good for you.”

Nero sits there kind of dumbfound. They still have a lot to learn about each other, but he can tell Dante’s trying his best. But he doesn’t really get it.

“What’s with this woman?” He asks, “You two don’t seem like you know each other too well. It’s weird seeing you with girls who aren’t Trish or Lady…”

Blue eyes wander towards Featherine, browsing through different titles vigorously. She was really too quiet for Nero to get a proper impression of her, but she seems pleasant enough.

“Truthfully, I don’t really know.” He gets an answer, “Some guy told me she was this evil demon and wanted me to dispose of her. She’s clearly not any kind of threat.”

“How do you know?”

“The same way you know, kid.”

_Fair enough_ , Nero thinks. But it wasn’t every day a human showed up with _that_ kind of ability. If anything, she did remind Nero of Lady a little bit – mostly for the fact that she was a human who had a bit of a quirk. But he can’t help but wonder about it. He’s heard of angels, and demons, but… _nymphs_? Wasn’t impossible, he supposed.

“We’ll find out soon enough. Said she wasn’t out for revenge regarding the people who killed her family, insists that she’s got no super physical strength or anything that would make that possible. I believe her. I just don’t know what doing all of this research is going to amount to in the end. There’s no goal – you can spend your entire life looking for answers, but there’s never an end to it.” Dante kicks his feet up onto the coffee table, narrowing his eyes as he sees her begin to stack books onto the floor, going from one to the next. “I don’t think those murderers are out of her life, at all. I think she’s just tryin’ to be optimistic.”

Nero can hardly blame her, though. Ever since he was a kid, he always wanted answers to every single mystery surrounding him. His white hair, his strange abilities, and then when his arm changed – all of his research practically amounted to nothing, too. But he never wanted to stop trying, so he never did, until those questions were finally answered during the whole Savior fiasco.

“But hey – she’s pretty cute, ain’t she?”

Nero sighs audibly at that, sinking into the couch as much as he can.

“You’re not thinking of going after her, are you?”

Dante reaches his hand for Nero’s hair, messying it up with a playful grin on his face.

“Nah – she’s too vulnerable for me, right now. I’d be a pretty awful guy if I went in for the kill while she’s like, trying to figure out her family’s murder.”

“You’re already a pretty awful guy.” Nero shoves Dante away from him, attempting to fix his hair to no avail.

“That’s harsh. Listen, I’m getting old, kid. I stopped fooling around a long time ago – I’m pretty confident I’m gonna be a bachelor until the day I die, but it’s worth a shot, no?”

“You… you _just_ met her.”

“Listen, love works in mysterious ways. Just because I haven’t known my potential wife since goddamn infancy doesn’t mean I’m hopeless.”

Well, when the _two_ women you were once interested in decide their love for _each other_ rather than you is the path they’d like to take – maybe you’re a little hopeless.

It worked out better that way. Trish looked way too much like his mom for Dante to even _attempt_ to work things out with her and Dante stopped feeling anything for Lady after the fifth or sixth time she took his pay from him without any room for discussion. He was happy for them – but damnit, he was getting lonely. Not that he’d ever admit it.

And then this _beautiful_ señiorita walks into his life and it _can’t_ be a coincidence, he thinks. But he’ll give it time.

“Enough about me, though. You like being quarter-demon yet?”

“It’s pretty fun when people _aren’t_ staring at my arm.”

“Yeah, I don’t think life would’ve been easy for me if I were born with my dad’s hooves.” Dante sighs, “I used to get like, really sick when I unwillingly triggered – it hurt like a bitch and looking at myself just made me want to shoot myself in the face.”

“Not that that would kill you.”

_True._ Dante snorts.

“I don’t hate my arm. It was able to help me save my town and save Kyrie. I’m just scared that it’s gonna hurt someone one day.” He fidgets in his seat, holding his devil bringer in front of his face. “I can’t hide it like you can hide yours. It blows.”

“Ah well – believe it or not, I can relate.” The look on Dante’s face makes Nero certain that he’s not just bullshitting. “Listen, up until early adulthood, I denied everything about my father. I couldn’t handle knowing that I was the same species as the creatures who killed my mother. I didn’t like my abilities, but I used them so I could avenge her.”

Dante never opened up this much.

“It takes time, kid. It was gonna happen to you eventually. Sorry my brother made it happen in like, the most awkward way possible. He was good at that.”

Nero furrows his eyebrows at the mention of his father. He always felt awkward whenever he was brought up, despite wanting to know more about him. Dante was all he had in that respect, but he didn’t like to press the issue.

“Um. My father…”

Dante grits his teeth a bit, knowing exactly what’s on his nephew’s mind. _Might as well get it out of the way_.

“For one thing, Nero. I don’t think you were an accident. Vergil had plans, and you were probably one of them”

Vergil didn’t make _mistakes_. He wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t irresponsible. Dante couldn’t stand his twin, but there was no denying that Vergil often completed his tasks meticulously. He was power hungry because he couldn’t protect their mom. Vergil never would’ve admitted that, ever, but it was _so_ goddamn obvious.

“I don’t agree with how he handled things. I mean – he’s not coming back, but he shouldn’t have left you in the dark the way he did.”

“Was I at least… a successful plan?”

“Hell yeah, kid. You stopped that old guy. But Vergil hated anyone who wanted dad’s power, because that power belonged to _him_. You stopped him because you knew it was the right thing to do, Vergil would’a stopped him because he was trying to obtain power that wasn’t his.”

Nero chuckles a bit. It’s sort of relieving to hear that out of Dante, but it still feels like he was born so he could serve as a tool to some bigger plot. That didn’t sit well with Nero at all – but if he was in fact born because his father wanted him to be, then he at least likes to think that Vergil would’ve been _somewhat_ proud of him.

Dante’s not going to give him that answer, though. He knows that.

“My dad disappeared while I was still a kid – that void was never really filled. The least I can do for you is be involved in your life because my asshole brother took the fuck off.”

“Thanks…”

Dante sits up, looking over at Nero. He’s got a pout on his face, but he’s still accepting of everything he’s been told. He can’t help but wrap his arm around the kid’s shoulder and tug him close. Nero makes a noise of discontent, but accepts this strange form of family affection anyway.

“I’m not here because I feel obligated to be – you’re a good kid and I’m glad we were able to meet. Hell, it might not mean much, but _I’m_ proud of you. And now that I’m here, you ain’t gettin’ rid of me.”

A smile manages to form on Nero’s face, shoving Dante off of him with his arm.

“You’re such a freak.”

“Sorry, I gotta live up to my new reputation as ‘super cool uncle.”

“Super cool – yeah, whatever you say.”

The two have their moment interrupted when a startled looking Featherine approaches them, holding a book close to her chest. She’s biting her lip, and opts to kneel on the floor, placing her reading material on the coffee table, flipping to a page littered with text that was simply too damn small.

She’s shaking, index finger pointing to a specific section – there’s an image placed above it, a group of about 10 people posing for a photo. They look like some sort of a cult.

“These are the people… this is them…”

Dante narrows his eyes, leaning forward to get a better look at what she’s pointing at. The looks on their faces gives off the immediate impression that they’re a fucked up group of people. They’re all holding guns, wearing uniforms that are only fit for combat. He doesn’t get it.

“No library I’ve been to has had _any_ information about them… but these are without a doubt the people who killed my family…” Her voice is quiet, her dark skin seems pale. “W-Why here… why does this town hold information on them…?”

“Our town has a lot of information on cults…” Nero says, “Especially regarding anything supernatural.”

“Does it say anything about them?”

Featherine looks up at the two, biting her lip as she nods. She spins the book back in her direction, reading directly off the text.

“Groups against the integration of human and non-human began committing terrorist attacks as little as fifty years ago. Their crimes are looked down upon, and widely considered illegal, therefore they don’t act often.”

That explained why Dante had never heard of such a thing until recently.

“They pledge to purify the world by purging of any and all non-human life, no matter how innocent they may be.” She rests her head in her hands, closing her eyes as if to compose herself. “Apparently they go after weaker species since they aren’t confident enough in their tactics to fight anything stronger. It’s bizarre…”

“Does this book give a _reason_?”

The young woman shakes her head, “It just says that they blame most of the destruction that goes on in our world on the supernatural – and that they think if only humanity was left, then the world would be at peace.”

Dante lets out a snort, “That ain’t true.”

“Believe me, I know.” Featherine finally looks up at the two, “It doesn’t have any further information. They don’t have a name, or a location. It just says that they exist.”

“The Order of the Sword was like… the literal opposite to these people.”

Dante lifts the book and dumps it on his lap, flipping a few pages ahead. The section on these people was long but it didn’t really have any information worth being worried about. _They’re unpredictable_ , it says, but that doesn’t help. He hasn’t heard any recent massacres of innocent people that _weren’t_ by the hands of demons, and he didn’t recall hearing any stories such as this one even while he was growing up.

“Featherine, you said you were thirteen when your family was murdered, right?” He asks. _God_ this is going to be terrible, but it’s a key question in this mystery that he needs the answer to. “…How… old are you _now_?”

“Thirty…” She answers quickly, _thank god_.

_Wait, she’s not too much younger than I am_. **_Score._**

“Okay, so it’s been a while since you’ve seen them… do you know if they’ve attacked anybody between then and now?”

“I’ve met other families that have been attacked similarly to me…” She admits, “Some years before me and others not too long after. They all claim to be normal humans though…”

Dante absorbs the information given to him, reading through the paragraphs for anything Featherine could’ve missed.

“There’s something about how they experimented on people, too. It says it was a short lived thing, since their research never got them anywhere.” Dante focuses on vibrant violet eyes. “They’re aware that some of their guinea pigs escaped. You read that, right?”

She sighs, defeated. “Yes…”

“You’re not worried, though.”

She’s pouting now, and Dante knows that there’s else troubling her. That look is all he needs for the discussion to end. Nero’s sitting uncomfortably, observing the two with obvious concern.

“I think we’re done here, Nero.” He sighs, “I don’t think we’re going to get any new answers – but it did help.”

“Yes, Nero – thank you…” Featherine stands up, gathering the book into her arms as she strays away, presumably to put the book back in it’s place.

Nero’s at the very least glad that he was able to help by bringing them here. It feels good knowing that he was able to assist Dante and his new client. He’s not willing to shoo them away, though. They drove all the way from Dante’s city just to get here – and he knows it would be rude to just see them off. Truthfully, he doesn’t want them to leave, either.

“Why don’t you come back to my place… I can give you guys some coffee or something before you go… Kyrie should be there by now.” Nero offers, shuffling around a bit. “She’d be happy to see you.”

“How could I _possibly_ resist your lovely girlfriend’s incredible hospitality?”

* * *

 

Nero and Kyrie were quite literally inseparable – for good reason, of course. They didn’t have anybody else to rely on. But, they enjoyed each others company – completely. That mattered a lot. 

They didn’t really _like_ alone time, even if Nero was a bit of a lone wolf. If he wasn’t with Kyrie, he didn’t want to be with anybody, of course that changed once Dante showed up, but his feelings regarding other people stayed mostly the same.

After Sanctus was eradicated, Kyrie and Nero had both confided in each other about their fears. With her parents long gone and Credo recently killed, she was afraid of being alone. Whenever she was in her and Nero’s apartment, Nero was _always_ there. She figured that this feeling of being paranoid would fade in due time, but for now, being home without her boyfriend was eerie.

She knew Nero had his own life to live, and that he was out spending time with his uncle who he didn’t even know _existed_ until recently, and for that, she was thrilled, but she couldn’t help but pray that he would be home at a reasonable time, so she wouldn’t have to sleep alone.

She kept all the lights on while she unwinded from her long day of preparing for the upcoming festival, tuning the radio to something a little more uplifting than the music she was so used to hearing whenever Nero was home.

The two of them were barely adults, not really fit at all to be living on their own, but they were making it work. They had been living together since they were children, after all – not much was different, aside from the void left by her brother’s passing.

Recovery was probably the hardest part – time healed all wounds.

Her thoughts are interrupted when she heard keys jostling around from outside their front door.

Nero enters quietly and cautiously, but relaxes immediately once he’s greeted by their bright home and the sound of cheery classical music playing throughout the living room. He holds the door for both Dante and Featherine, biting back a smile as the thought of seeing his girlfriend’s beautiful face after a long day apart crosses his mind.

“Kyrie – I’m back. Dante’s here with his client… I hope that’s okay.”

Kyrie peaks her head from out of the kitchen, a kind smile on her face as she spots Nero from across the hall. He greets her, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips with a quiet ‘hello beautiful.’

Nero’s such a _smooth_ motherfucker.

The brunette turns to their guests, clapping her hands together as she sees Dante, who immediately goes to put his coat away _just_ in case. The woman standing beside him looks tired, a melancholy expression on her face. She knew Dante’s line of work wasn’t the most pleasant, but Kyrie couldn’t imagine what brought those two together.

“Have a seat, you two. Are you heading back to town tonight? I can fix you up some coffee – it’s a long drive, isn’t it?”

Kyrie approaches Dante, giving him a friendly kiss to the cheek before she disappears back into the kitchen with Nero, presumably to get all the details before she sits out there with everyone.

Dante’s been feeling pretty goddamn guilty ever since they left the library, seeing Featherine’s liveliness and enthusiasm drained completely after being exposed to the books she read through while they were there. She’s not smiling anymore, and she hadn’t spoken two words while they were on their way back to Nero’s apartment.

She probably feels awkward and out of place, getting yanked around by Dante in his efforts to help her figure out her situation.

He’s gotta make it up to her.

“Nero’s only seventeen, but he’s got his life sorted out way better than I do.” He sighs in an attempt to start up conversation. “Kyrie’s real sweet – you’ll like her.” Dante says, flashing a grin.

Featherine folds her hands in her lap, legs crossed at the ankles. Something’s going through her mind, but Dante can’t tell exactly what. He really can’t blame her, but seeing such a pretty face with such a gloomy expression only made him want to brighten her up.

He may not know much about the situation at hand, but he wants to assure her that he’s got a sturdy hold on it all.

“Nero – please be careful with the mugs! I don’t want you to burn yourself again, you’re so clumsy around the house, sometimes.”

The two hear Kyrie’s cheery voice from the kitchen as Nero enters the living room, setting down a tray of coffee that Kyrie so kindly prepared for them. She follows out shortly, Nero taking a seat on the couch and pulling his girlfriend down onto his lap.

_Smooooooth motherfucker_.

Kyrie’s turning red but it’s clear she enjoys when Nero is openly affectionate, it shows that he missed her. She makes no effort to push him away. Dante thinks he should get some tips from these two.

“Don’t hesitate to grab a mug. I put extra sweetener in yours, Dante.”

“Man, you know me _so_ well.” He doesn’t skip a beat when the offer is made, “Kyrie, you’re a blessing.”

“I want you to feel at home here! You’re family, after all.”

There’s a moment of silence, the four sitting together somewhat awkwardly through it. Featherine only sinks further into her seat, blaming her self for the quietness among the room.

“Featherine, right?” Kyrie finally speaks up, “That’s such a pretty name. Nero was telling me that you’ve been doing a lot of research regarding your people.”

The small blonde woman meets Kyrie’s friendly gaze, and she can’t help but smile in return. She nods her head, finally reaching forward for the cup that was prepared for her. She had been zoned out for so long, she didn’t really notice how tired she was. It was a long way back to the city, so she was of course thankful for the hospitality she was receiving while in Fortuna.

“I’m just looking for proof – everywhere I look seems to imply that we don’t actually _exist_. Which is quite bizarre, no?” She hears Dante give a sigh of relief now that she’s started speaking again. Perhaps he was right, Kyrie was a blessing.

“Living in a world where there’s undeniable proof of the supernatural, why wouldn’t nymphs exist? I’m sure there are no pure nymphs walking among us anymore, but it’s not like human species die out so easily.”

Kyrie turns to Nero, pursing her lips together as she fixes her train of thought.

“Nero, you had to do a lot of research regarding _your_ past, didn’t you? I remember how much time you spent doing it.”

“Yeah, things worked out though. They always do.”

Dante notices that Featherine seems rather unphased by that comment. She hadn’t asked about Dante’s abilities, though she hadn’t really seen them yet, but he notices that her eyes are fixated on Nero’s arm. He had it covered, before, but now that they were in the comfort of their own home, he seems to have forgotten that Featherine was rather clueless about both Dante and Nero’s origins.

He didn’t know if she knew about Sparda and his accomplishments, but he wasn’t about to press it.

“When I think about it,” Nero speaks, resting his head against Kyrie’s shoulder, “What you told me about the people who killed your family does remind me about what happened here. Similar goals, they wanted to achieve the power of the underworld to become something more than human. These people want to get rid of that power entirely, so only humankind remains.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty weird.” Dante’s already halfway done with his cup, “But they haven’t gotten very far. The fact that it’s been so long since they last killed anyone probably means that they’ve given up.”

Featherine clenches onto her mug, “I hope so.” She says, “I’m not looking for revenge. Even if I was, my abilities don’t grant me any sort of strength or real advantages. They helped me escape my imprisonment, sure, but that was all tactic, while I was desperate. They’d be able to kill me within mere seconds.”

Featherine isn’t weak, Dante thinks. Her powers may be, sure, but the willpower it takes to survive a life or death situation requires something much more than simple physical strength. He knows this for a fact, he’s been in that position before.

She’s not powerless.

He’s not going to push her to want revenge; if anything he quite admires her desire to live in peace. It reminds him a bit of what his father set out to do, and for that, he finds her even more appealing.

“I’d be there before they could even think of harming another innocent person. My business doesn’t involve humans, but if they’ve got this fucked up goal of hurting people who haven’t even done anything – I’d think that they’re toying with some sort of power that isn’t theirs.”

“Even if they pride themselves on their pure humanity?”

“There’s gotta be something else going on for them to have a goal _that_ extreme.” Nero mumbles, “They know what they’re doing isn’t possible with their stamina alone.”

* * *

 

The more Dante fucked shit up, the less conflict the world had to face. That was a fact. It was weird to think that humankind and demonkind were actually beginning to live amongst each other _peacefully_ , or at the very least, begrudgingly coexisting, but the world was on that route. There would always be one or two bad eggs every few months or so, but overall, give or take twenty years, he thought peace was a very real possibility. 

Sure, that would leave him out of a _job_ , but he could handle being homeless if it meant he helped create the world his mother and father dreamed of.

It sounded too sentimental when he thought of it that way.

Regardless, the ride home from Fortuna was a bit more pleasant than Dante really anticipated. He was expecting an awkward two hour drive, but Featherine wound up falling asleep about a half hour into it. It gave Dante some time to reflect, and how to offer his protection services to her once they got back to Devil May Cry.

“Kyrie told me that you and Nero haven’t known each other for too long.”

Dante shifts his eyesight, glancing at Featherine who still has her eyes closed.

“He’s your nephew, no?”

“It’s kinda complicated.” Dante admits, adjusting his rearview mirror as he ventures off the highway, “My brother knocked up some poor girl when he was still a teenager. Poor girl gives us Nero, by leaving him at an orphanage. I didn’t know he existed until I got a call about demons infesting the quaint little town of Fortuna.”

“Small world.”

“I figured it out pretty quickly – it’s a long story though. Something I’d probably tell on a second date.”

“On a _second_ date?” Featherine laughs. She _laughs_ and Dante’s fucking _relieved_. She sits up, brushing her hair from her face as she turns to look at him. He’s not sure if he should take that as a sign to continue his friendly banter, _flirty_ banter – but Dante’s always been a risk taker.

“I was gettin’ worried. I mean, you have every reason to be upset, but I hate seeing such a pretty girl so doom and gloom, yunno.”

“You really don’t waste time, do you?”

“Hey now, I waited until things lightened up, didn’t I?” He chuckles, “I’m just being honest. It’s been a damn long time since someone as beautiful as you simply _strolled_ into my life.”

“Glad I could be such a sight for sore eyes.”

Thank _goodness_. Dante can’t remember the last time he flirted and it _didn’t_ wind up with him getting shot in the head. Maybe he’s still got his touch. Or maybe he never had it until recently. Age did bring wisdom.

“So, _Featherine_. How long _are_ you planning on staying in town anyway? We’ve only got one library. Most of our town relics involve demons, not fairies. Or would that benefit you, too?”

“Do you want me to be honest?” She asks. She sinks back into the leather seat, letting the wind push her hair back, eyes drifting closed.

They’re not far from his place, by now. He doesn’t know if she’s spending the night again, but he’s not sure if traveling anymore is a great idea for her.

“Be as honest as you’d like, princess.”

A smile graces her lips, “Capulet City was my last resort. I mean, before you took me to Fortuna.” Her voice quivers a bit. “This place is historical – with it being the home of the legendary dark knight, of course. If any place would have information about strange species of beings, I thought this would be it.”

“ _Historical_?” Dante can’t help but laugh at that. But now the cat’s out of the bag – she knows _something_ about Sparda. “So – what does that mean, then? You’re giving up? Finding a new hobby?”

“I don’t know what I was going to do if this place didn’t have what I was looking for. I’m at a dead end – I don’t really have anywhere to go.”

“Is this your way of asking if you can stay with me?”

Feathering sort of rolls her eyes, though she manages a laugh. “You’re the one who asked _me_ what I was planning on doing. I gave you my answer. I don’t ever recall asking if you wanted a roommate.”

“Yeah, maybe I’m just being eager.”

The ride home finishes within mere minutes. Pulling up to his shop, he searches for his keys and puts the roof of his car back into place before exiting the convertible. He watches as Featherine dusts herself off – she seems a bit lost.

“I wasn’t kidding. My place isn’t the best, but if you don’t have anywhere else to go, I’d be happy to lend my shitty hospitality to you.”

Featherine turns back towards Dante, meeting his relaxed gaze. She’s got this melancholy air about her, and all Dante can think about is cheering her up. Maybe he was just lonely, being on his own, again. The company would’ve been nice. He couldn’t imagine sending her out into the city with nothing to her name.

“I really shouldn’t, Dante. I-I really appreciate it, but… I just – I don’t want to impose.”

“ _Impose?_ ” He shakes his head, “Listen, I’m offering. You don’t gotta accept, but I think I’d feel better if I knew you were some place safe, alright? If I just let you go out on your own, I don’t think I could forgive myself if something happened.”

_God_ she looks so sad and it’s _killing_ him. She purses her lips, violet eyes gazing down towards the floor. Dante takes a deep breath and moves a bit closer, placing his hand on her shoulder.

“C’mon, you’re tired. You can stay as long as you’d like – I really wouldn’t mind.”

“I just don’t understand – you’re being so kind to me.”

“Agh – don’t make me out to be this fuckin’ saint or whatever. C’mon – I’ll help organize the guest room for you.”

He swiftly moves behind her, practically shoving her back into his office. She stifles a laugh, giving in to the white haired man’s persuasiveness. She does feel safe with him – he’s got a good heart.

She can’t quite help herself when flowers begin to grow in her tracks.


	3. Mission 03

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> exposition my dudes

Dante was _not_ an early riser by any means – but having a business that opened at 10 meant sacrifice.

Well, _owning_ a business had it’s perks such as ignoring the shop hours and sleeping until 1 or 2 and pretending that you were busy. So Dante wasn’t awake because the shop opened in 20 minutes, he was awake because his god forsaken body would _not_ let him sleep despite being out until three in the morning. He attributed it to stress, perhaps. Or maybe he was just getting old. But the fact was that he was awake and completely unwilling to start his day without at least two cups of coffee.

He’s hardly conscious as he practically stumbles around his office, trying to not make noise with Featherine asleep upstairs. He got her as comfortable as he possibly could in his shitty little guest room, sort of glad that Trish left a bunch of her crap here that he could offer to her. She hardly took any of it, but she was appreciative of his _hospitality,_ which was enough.

He figures he should put on some clothing – the shop opens in 10 minutes now and he’s a disheveled mess. Why does he feel like he got piss drunk and got into a fight before he passed out? Dante didn't _feel_ stress, Dante didn’t get anxious – it wasn’t his style. And yet…

He’s finally on his second cup of coffee when the clock strikes 10 and finds a fucking letter flying under the door at top speed, landing at the foot of his desk.

Peculiar – he has a mailbox, so why not use it? Unless it’s a bill or a “final notice” regarding his electricity being cut off. But Dante wasn’t _really_ in debt anymore – all that shit he owed Lady was done for. He still didn’t have a _lot_ of money, but he didn’t have anything to pay off.

He picks it up, holding it in front of his tired fucking face to try and read.

“When the warmth returns, birds will fly. 320.” 

“Is this some peta bullshit or something?” Dante crumples the paper in his fist, tossing it into the trash. “Fuck cares about migration…”

He stretches, ready to head upstairs and prepare for his probably boring and uneventful day. Lucky for him, the door slams open – it’s fucking _10AM_ …

“Dante!”

_Lady_.

“Remind me to apologize to Nero next time I see him – it is pretty annoying when people barge into your home without knocking.”

“Shouldn’t have given us keys.”

_There it is_.

Both Lady and Trish enter like they own the place, but Dante can’t help but feel a little excited that they’re here. Sure, a bit of notice would’ve been nice, but they’re two of his closest friends. Dante’s happy to see them, and happy to see that they’re happy.

“What brings you two along? So early too – I don’t usually get to see you before noon.” Dante muses, “It’s not money or anything, is it? I thought we figured that shit out.”

Lady laughs, plopping down on Dante’s couch giving the indication that she was going to be sticking around for a while. She seems to come in peace, and Trish has already taken her spot on top of Dante’s desk. Maybe they just want to bug him, playful things that they are.

“Don’t worry – the Fortuna citizens are a lot more thankful for you and your nephew than we originally thought. The people that hired us to handle the job called us back for their festival. They want us to stay down there for a week and go sight seeing – they’re paying for it all.”

“Why couldn’t Nero just tell me this?”

“Nero isn’t the mayor of Fortuna.” She kicks her legs up on the sofa, running her hand through her hair. “He probably has no idea – but it would be good to see him, wouldn’t it?”

“Jesus, you’re acting like I _am_ his dad. I see him as much as I can – I saw him yesterday, for christs sake.”

“It’s just a thought – the town invited us, not him.”

“We missed you, Dante.” Trish admits for the both of them. Lady’s far too hot headed to try and have a civilized conversation with her favorite demon-human hybrid, it’s the least Trish could do for him after all he had done for her. “We went out for breakfast, just wanted to pop by.”

“Babe – you don’t have to _tell_ him that.”

Trish kind of rolls her eyes, laughing at her girlfriend’s stubbornness. By now, Dante knows better than to tease Lady about it – it would be a never ending shit show.

“Uh, by the way. Like two minutes before you walked in I got this weird letter about migration. Neither of you are bird fanatics, right?”

They’re both puzzled by Dante’s question, eyebrows raised in response. He can’t be bothered to find the letter he crumpled and tossed into the trash, but they seem genuinely clueless.

“Did you see anybody leaving my place before you got here?”

“No.” They say in unison.

“Great – I dunno, probably some shit about global warming. Just thought I should ask.”

“What exactly did it say?”

“Uh – I threw it out. _Migration ends when it gets warm_ , or some shit.”

“Yeah, I have no idea.”

Almost like it’s _scripted_ , the three hear a door open upstairs. Lady and Trish _immediately_ look to Dante with their eyebrows raised. They visit often, they know that Dante lives alone, that Dante has been _living_ alone for quite some time now. Dante’s most frequent visitors live close enough where they don’t have to spend the night.

They all stay silent as they hear footsteps approach the staircase, and Dante is _nervous_ , even though he knows exactly what’s about to go down.

“You didn’t tell us you had a guest, Dante.” Trish chimes in, turning towards him, a cheshire like grin on her face.

Both their mouths _drop_ when Featherine makes her way down the staircase, in nothing but a nightgown. So it’s worse than what Dante was expecting. It hardly reaches her knees – she didn’t sleep in that the other night. What the _fuck_.

Trish and Lady both eye each other – they were sure expecting a woman but they weren’t expecting it to be _so_ obvious. For once, they’re sort of speechless.

“Featherine… did we wake you?”

“ _Ooooooh my god_.”

Dante shoots a glare at Lady, making her cover her mouth before she can burst into laughter. Trish eyes the small, brown woman up and down, biting her tongue as she tries to keep her cool.

“Of course not.” Her voice is quiet, exhausted. She didn’t sleep well, he can tell that much. “I’ve been up for a while – Curiosity got the best of me, though. Wanted to see what was going on.”

He’s choking back tears by now, practically slamming his face into his desk. He’s turning redder than his jacket, _god_ , Lady and Trish aren’t going to let him live this one down.

“Dante. Who is this?”

“Trish, Lady – this is Featherine. She’s a client. She’s got nowhere to stay so I let her crash here – in Trish’s old room. Featherine, this is Trish – my old roommate, and Lady. They help me run the place.”

They’re still suspicious, understandably, but Featherine gives off this certain type of air.

“ _Client_?” Lady scoffs, “You got real lucky with this one, didn’t you?”

“Oh don’t worry. I kept the door locked.” Featherine heads straight for the coffee maker, “He’s not lying.”

“I don’t smell Dante’s scent on her, Lady.” Trish confirms, “He’d be way more smug if he _did_ get laid. You know this.”

“ _Shut up_.” Dante groans, shrugging his jacket off his shoulders. He turns to Featherine, who seems all too entertained by his sheer embarrassment and tosses it to her. “Please – you look cold.”

“Dante, you’re not serious.” Lady gestures to her own open cleavage, “You’re acting like some horny teenager.”

Dante would be a lying asshole if he denied that he didn’t find Featherine’s thighs the least bit appealing. And Lady and Trish were different, considering he’d known them for so long. Of course, he wasn’t the type to control what someone was wearing, and this was more of a case of “if you don’t put something on, these two will _not_ stop bothering me” rather than him being some sort of horny bastard. He was past that.

He’s thankful that she puts it on, but it doesn’t really do much to help him. _He just met her, they didn’t know each other_. Christ, she’s hot.

He likes to think that Lady and Trish approve of his taste this time around, because before he knows it, the three girls are bullshitting together, laughing over something, he’s not really paying attention.

It could’ve gotten ugly.

Featherine’s sitting next to Lady on his sofa, holding her mug with both hands. She’s got a smile on her face as she gets to know them, blonde hair pulled into a messy braid, legs crossed at the ankles. She wears a lot of white, from what he can tell – but it compliments her dark skin nicely, she’s like walking color theory.

“You alright there, tiger?”

Trish’s voice snaps him out of it. He was staring, _typical_. He blames it on being tired, though Trish knows him better than that.

“Before I forget – Featherine. I did get a weird letter this morning. Considering you’re pretty in the dark about everything, I don’t expect you to know – but it had something to do with migration.”

“Migration? Just because my name is birdlike doesn’t mean I _am_ one.”

“Does 320 ring a bell?”

“You didn’t say anything about a number, Dante.” Lady says, “You threw the letter out?”

He sighs, “In retrospect, that was probably stupid, wasn’t it?”

“Little bit.”

Featherine ponders for a moment. A letter about migration seems so random, but at the same time, it’s too perfect of a _pun_ for it to not be related to her. But at the same time, she had only met Dante a few days ago – there was no way that somebody was _already_ out to get her?

320 doesn’t ring a bell at all, but she can only assume that it’s a date. It’s a date still a few months away – with that knowledge, there’s nothing that can really be done until then.

“I don’t recall 320. It has no significance to me at all.”

He pushes himself away from his desk, sitting up. “No big deal. Whatever it is – I’ll figure it out eventually.”

Almost exactly on cue, the shop phone rings.

And here, Dante was expecting a boring day.

Trish and Lady are already standing, even though he hasn’t even gotten to the call yet. It had simply been so long since they’ve teamed up together, he can see that they’re excited – ready to go.

“You two hunt with him?” Featherine cocks her head to the side, focused on Lady’s gun. “I mean – with a weapon as big as that…”

“Ah, well. We like some fun every once in a while too. Can’t let Dante get all the good jobs.”

“You’ve known him a long time, I take it.”

Lady laughs at that. A long time was an understatement by this point. She recalls arrogant, 18 year old Dante trying to be a fucking showoff in front of her, destroying her motorcycle in the process. Trish wasn’t so lucky to have known him when he was a teenager, but maybe it was for the better. He was a _total_ jackass.

“I’ve known him since we were teenagers. Met on the job – haven’t been able to get rid of him since then.” Lady answers Featherine, looking over to Dante, preoccupied with his phone call. “You’re lucky you didn't know him then. What a punk.”

“He got better.” Chimes in Trish, “You seem to forget that you’re pretty hot headed yourself, Lady.”

“Yeah, well-“

“Sorry, babes.” All three are cut off when Dante slams his phone down. “Just gotta go and clean up downtown. It’s better if I go solo.”

“Aw, c’mon! It’s been over a month since we got anything good, Dante. We can’t even check it out?”

Dante’s already got his weapons in hand, just about to head out the door until he lays his eyes on Featherine, in his jacket. She’s standing by the time he gets to her, shrugging it off her shoulders as he holds his hand out for her to drop it into. Bare skin revealed once again, her silky smooth shoulders are so goddamn captivating – but he’s got a job to do. He’ll worry about his thoughts later.

“Maybe keep this one some company.” He suggests, slipping into his coat as his last preparations. “Bond over clothes or some shit. I don’t want her to be left alone in this joint – not after that letter, yunno?”

“Dante, you don’t have to worry about me.”

She’s pouting and _ugh_ she’s cute. She pulls her braid over her shoulder, fingers combing through the ends.

“They’ve got lives of their own. I can go about my business.”

Dante turns to Lady and Trish, now joined at the hip. They’ve got devious smirks on their faces – he can’t read either of their minds. Maybe it _was_ a bad idea leaving Featherine with these two.

“Actually, Dante – we’ll hang out with Featherine. Get to know her, some.”

He suspicious of them – reasonably. They weren’t really the type to humiliate and make uncomfortable, though. Well, unless they were dealing with him.

“If you insist.” He backs off, halfway out the door as he makes his decision. “I’ll be around – I’ll _know_ if you start fuckin’ with her.”

The door clicks closed before any of them can even blink. Featherine’s left standing, Trish and Lady having turned their attention towards her almost immediately after. She can’t quite say that she feels uncomfortable, but she can tell that Dante’s got some history with them, and that they were probably going to chew her ear off.

This was certainly an interesting way to get introduced to the team.

* * *

 

“You’re not joking – he really didn’t try and sleep with you on the first night?” 

Featherine can hardly hold back her laughter. The sheer _disbelief_ that Trish and Lady are exhibiting is a real telltale sign that their opinion on Dante was quite strained. They stressed that they really loved him, but that he was real shit at kicking his habits. He had to be _baby sat_.

After being assured that they had a _lot_ to talk to Featherine about, they took to a nearby lounge for some drinks to get into the mood. Featherine tried insisting that she needed to get some work done, regarding her research, but they thought she was working too hard – needed a break.

Truthfully, she did.

It had been an emotionally trialing couple of days. Her research had always been for _fun_ , so when she arrived here and actually began to learn about her past –it took her by surprise. Learning that there was someone actually out there who wanted her dead because of her powers, even though she hadn’t been hurting anyone, to learning about the entire organization of people who were out to destroy anybody that was even remotely like her. Maybe she did need to forget for a little while and just take it easy.

Trish and Lady were more than welcoming to her, so she was pleased, to say the least.

They did bombard her with questions, however, that she had no idea how to answer at first. And they _all_ involved Dante’s terrible flirtatious attitude.

“I mean, when he invited me over the first thing he brought up was that his guest room had a lock. I think he knew I was uncomfortable.”

“ _Wow_.” Lady leans her elbows on the table, sunglasses practically sliding off her nose. She’s _captivated_ by this information, like she can’t comprehend anything she’s being told.

“I mean – he’s been flirty but he hasn’t made any moves. I mean, we just met each other.” Featherine pouts, “Is it really that strange?”

“Well,” Featherine watches as Lady takes a swig from her drink, slamming it down with determination. “To be frank, I first met him when I was 16. He _looked_ at me and immediately tried to get in my pants.”

“Lady, he was _hardly_ an adult.” Trish laughs, “He’s not like that anymore.”

“I mean, he _does_ like to fool around. It’s just bizarre to me that he’s keeping his distance. He’s usually a _go for the kill_ kinda guy.”

“He hasn’t properly dated anybody in years, yunno. The last girl I remember happened five or six years ago.” Trish is focused on the table top, trying her best to think. “He brought back a few girls when I was living with him, but it never lasted for more than that night. He just gets lonely.”

Featherine is sinking in her seat at this point. She didn’t think she’d be involved in a conversation about Dante’s _sex life_. Lady and Trish are arguing it out, trying to solve the mystery by themselves, using Featherine as their newest example.

It wasn’t like she wasn’t interested, but she could hardly justify engaging with somebody when she had only met them a few days ago. He was kind to her, and cared about her comfort. He offered to help figure out her family’s mystery, and was offering her a place to stay until she got onto her own two feet. It was too good to be true, really, but with the way Lady and Trish were discussing his views on romance as though he only knew how to fool around made her feel a bit nervous.

“I’m sorry, Featherine.” Lady removes her sunglasses, tucking them into her shirt pocket. “Dante only behaves this way when he’s _serious_ , yunno. We’re just trying to figure him out.”

“He was awfully protective of you back at his office. Maybe it’s just because of the nature of the situation, but the way he threw his coat at you like he was _embarrassed?_ ” Trish laughs, “He’s in his late 30s. Dante doesn’t _get_ embarrassed unless he’s completely serious.”

“What we’re trying to say is that he’s _totally_ into you. Like, wants to get to know you into you.”

“ _Doesn’t want to scare you away by being too forward_ into you.”

“Have either of you dated him?” She asks, her voice a bit quieter. “I mean – you just seem to have a lot of opinions on the matter.”

“It’s a long, boring story.” Trish answers almost immediately, “He’ll probably tell you sooner or later.”

“Me and Dante had a thing going on for a few years. It was nice while it lasted, but we really weren’t compatible.” Lady follows up, “We both have a lot of trauma that neither of us were able to resolve, we couldn’t comfort each other. He wanted things that I couldn’t give him, and I was the first to realize it.”

“It seems like you two put a lot of energy into each other.”

“We did – but it wasn’t good for either of us. He tried to hang on when I wanted to end it, but he realized it soon enough. We work better as friends.”

“And you don’t think any of those feelings are lingering?”

“After practically 20 years? Hell no.” She snorts, “I made him pay off my bike that he destroyed – I really don’t think he ever forgave me. Even though he’s not even in _debt_ to me anymore – I fucked him over real bad.”

“Featherine – do you not know anything about Dante?”

“I’m not really from around here… I’m clueless, really.”

Trish and Lady exchange a look, like they’re about to send Featherine on some sort of adventure. They know a lot about him, and they seem trustworthy. It certainly feels good to have been quickly accepted into this circle of friends, and she doesn’t feel out of place at all, but it’s exactly that that makes her only a little uncomfortable. She had never met people that whole heartedly seemed to accept the circumstances of her life and didn’t treat her differently for it.

Everything was working out _really_ well, and she couldn’t help but be skeptical. Not of her new friends, of course, but of the situation in general. It was too perfect.

“Dante’s really talkative, but he doesn’t share a lot about what he’s been through.” Lady breaks the silence, “Get to know him. I think it’ll be good for you guys.”

“I mean… I’d like to.”

“I’m sure you think we’re being _really_ pushy – but there’s something about you, Featherine. You deserve to be happy too, don’t you think?”

She’s caught off guard by that last comment, having hardly shared much of how she felt throughout the entire conversation. Lady and Trish have their hands intertwined, smiling out of sincerity.

“You think I can make Dante happy?”

“We don’t think.” Lady hums, looking to her partner.

“We _know_.”

* * *

 

Sleeping _peacefully_ through the night was always a difficult thing to achieve. He’d never admit it, but he could rarely catch a full eight hours. Interrupted by nightmares, near constant, and general restlessness. Dante knew _everything_ that was going on in this damn town, and the obligation he felt to protect it was overwhelming. Demons were scarce, sure, but something was always lurking. 

Well, the restlessness had really been toned down for a while. Dante didn’t worry anymore, considering he knew what he had going for him (he was allowed to be cocky) but then you get a strange, vaguely threatening letter not even _directed_ at you and it throws everything off.

Luckily, the power of alcohol did help – giving him the ability to knock the fuck out for at _least_ 10 hours. It made the nightmares inescapable, but at least he wouldn’t be _completely_ fucking out of it the next day.

The job he was given was a fucking joke, and it paid pretty terribly, yet it still kept him out late. When he got back, Featherine was already asleep so he had to entertain himself until he decided he was ready to pass out.

Entertaining himself meant drinking – a lot.

He’s not sure what time he managed to pass out, but when he wakes up it’s nearly noon. Looks really great for business – maybe he’ll just keep the shop closed for today.

He’d rather _not_ frighten his guest and head into his office barely wearing any clothing – he couldn't even be bothered to get changed last night. He’s _almost_ out the door before he realizes he’s half naked.

She’d understand messy, but not… _nude_.

He’s hardly got a shirt over his head when he hears a _crash_ come from the downstairs. He doesn’t even hesitate, practically flinging himself down the staircase to make sure everything is okay. He doesn’t _sense_ anything, and there’s no further noise – so what?

He grabs Rebellion off the wall, tip-toeing around the corner only to find his office space completely empty. Featherine’s not here, but he hears more rummaging a bit further in, past the door behind his desk.

His building was pretty decently sized, and was more or less like a house when he first purchased it. The door beyond his office lead to his bathroom – and the kitchen which he probably hadn’t set foot in… ever.

Another loud crash and a familiar voice cusses in a language that isn’t English. Dante deems it safe to place his sword down, since he’s not looking to scare the piss out of Featherine so early in the morning.

He goes to push the door open, but it’s quite literally slammed in his face when Featherine storms out of it – realizing what she’s done half a second later.

“ _Oh God_ , Dante!” She brings her hand to her mouth, watching as the tall, white haired man stumbles backwards, covering his nose with his hand. “I didn’t even hear you come downstairs – I’m so sorry!”

  
She reaches for him, taking him by the arm in an attempt to see the damage done by her _door opening trauma_  

“I’m fine – just… gimmie like 5 seconds.”

She’s taken aback when Dante turns his face away, shaking off the pain like he’s a wet dog. Surely the force of the door opening that fast would’ve at least bruised him up – if he were lucky, but she was anticipating a broken nose, at the least.

He takes a deep breath before turning back to her, smile on his face – not a scratch visible.

“Dante, you – “

“Told you I’d be fine.” He hums, “Whhhhaaaat were you doing in there? I mean, no secrets or anything – but I don’t use that kitchen.”

She’s pouting by now, grasping onto the hem of her blouse. She looks around, eyeing his mini-fridge by the couch, and the evidence of a months worth of takeout piled in the corner. He knew that would get to him eventually.

“Well.” She pulls away, turning her attention towards the door she had just been through. “I was going to try and whip you up some breakfast – as thanks for letting me stay here. But – “

Featherine turns towards him, seemingly puzzled by the information she’s about to reveal.

“Your kitchen is _completely_ empty. You don’t have… anything.”

There it is.

“I mean, if you’re hungry, I’ve got menus from all over town.” Dante shrugs, “I’ve never needed to use the kitchen. And it’s a city, there’s like a billion restaurants.”

“…Do you not know how to cook?”

“Uhhh – I wouldn’t say I don’t know _how_ to – “

“When was the last time you ate something that _wasn’t_ takeout – or diner food?”

“…Last time Nero and Kyrie invited me over. Girl’s got a magic touch, I tell you.”

Featherine gives a genuine, deep sigh, nodding her head in understanding. She eyes Dante up and down, taking a moment to process the situation.

“Are you busy today, Dante?”

“Honestly, I’m sorta hung over. I wasn’t gonna bother with the shop today. Business can suck it until tomorrow.”

“Get dressed, then. I’m cooking for you, tonight, and _you’re_ gonna go grocery shopping with me.”

* * *

 

This couldn’t have gone better, really. Dante was good at being sneaky, and although having Featherine cook for him wasn’t necessarily one of his plans, he was _so_ glad that things worked out the way they did. 

He likes walking by her side. He can’t help but eye her every now and then, even if it’s completely obvious since he can’t see her unless he tilts his head down. Her blonde hair flows in the wind nicely, and her heels click against the floor in a pleasant little melody – with those on, she just barely reaches his shoulders. She’s still fairly quiet, having not said too much while they made their way further into town, but he can tell she’s not speaking because she’s focused, not because she’s nervous.

He spots his favorite diner as they make their way down the street, and he knows that this is where his plan falls into place.

Unless of course, she says no, which he totally would respect. But he’s hopeful.

“Hold up.” He stops in his tracks, Featherine stopping only a few steps ahead. It’s still pretty early in the day, and he can’t imagine that shopping for _his_ empty cupboards will only take one trip. She turns to face him, looking up into his gaze, eyebrows furrowed.

“Isn’t the store further in town?”

“Let’s get some coffee or something – before we go out on our little adventure, yeah?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you out all day.”

Dante shoves his fists in his pockets, turning his gaze towards the diner.

“Yeah – I’m sure. Let’s talk, and stuff.” He’s smiling now, hearing as she walks closer to his side. “What do you think of turning this outing into a _date_ , huh?”

“Mm, I see. You’re taking me to this diner so we can get the ball rolling, is that it?”

“That’s exactly it.”

She’s through the doors of the diner before he can even blink, all he can do is follow suit. He takes this as a sign that she’s eager, maybe. Perhaps she wants to know him a little bit more too. Not that he _can_ really reveal too much about himself, being mysterious came with the whole “son of Sparda” package.

They’re seated near immediately, a few comments from the nice waitress saying that they were expecting him, and that they’ll get his order right away, though he insists on waiting for Featherine to read through the menu before they start making anything for him. Such a gentlemen, he could be.

“They have you memorized and everything, huh?” She jokes, “Are they surprised you’re here with another person?”

“Oh c’mon – I’m not _that_ lonely.”

She can’t help but laugh. And _god_ is she cute when she does. Featherine was actually completely right, considering Dante hardly came here with other people. The look on the waitresses face said enough, Featherine was damn good at reading facial cues.

She taps her nails on the table’s surface, violet eyes looking around with so much curiosity. He knows she hadn’t been in this town for too long, so he feels a little bit obligated to show her around – not that he minds it, of course.

Her attention is brought back to Dante after a few seconds pass, and she’s got an eyebrow raised.

“You stare a lot, you know that?”

Sweet, he can’t make it subtle that he’s admiring like every detail of her beauty.

“Mm, I really don’t. I just stare a lot at you – you’re just really cute.” He’s blunt, but he gets the sense that it’s not going to bite him in the ass. “Let’s just get this out of the way – if you wanted nothing to do with me, you’d have fucked off like 3 days ago. So you’re hanging around because you _are_ interested, right?”

“If I wasn’t, would I be sitting here with you… on a _date_?”

“So you _totally_ dig me.”

“You’re in such disbelief. Is it weird?” Featherine pouts. There’s _no_ possible way that Dante wasn’t aware of his charm, and though he was a _little_ bit arrogant, he made Featherine think that he was something special.

Dante had his share of relationships, good and bad, but now with all of the teasing out of his system, he found himself a little less concerned with fooling around, and a little more interested in settling down. When he looked at Featherine, he felt something new and he wasn't willing to fuck that up by being an asshole.

“I said yes to this little coffee date because I want to get to know you. I’ve been with you for a few days, and you’re… wonderful… but so mysterious.” She’s leaning forward, gazing into his eyes. “Tell me about yourself.”

He scoffs – that’s something he’s always hated being asked to do. Featherine already gave him her entire life story, but he didn’t think his family history was a really appropriate topic for a date.

“Well, much like you – I’ve been on my own since I was a kid. Both my parents are gone, brother’s gone – Nero’s the only family I’ve got left.”

Such a sensitive topic she chose. He stops, seeing the frown on her face, something he was sort of anticipating.

“I mean, it’s not something I dwell on. Not anymore. But it’s better to get that out sooner than later, right?”

She purses her lips, eyes drifting closed – such little information seemed to hit her really hard.

“I take it it’s not something you talk about often, huh?” She asks, “This is a first date, no? You said you give out the juicier details on a _second_ one.”

He smirks, lazily leaning back in his seat, running a hand through his hair. “Then I sure as hell hope this one goes according to plan.”

The two share a laugh, and soon enough, their meals are delivered. They’re both thinking the same thing, as they hardly ordered anything at all. _Have to make a good impression_ is Dante’s train of thought, even though he can’t resist the diner’s strawberry dessert, whereas Featherine sticks with a coffee and a small pastry. She insists that they shouldn’t indulge here because when Featherine cooks, she cooks _big_ , something Dante takes seriously. One sundae wont kill his appetite in a few hours.

Featherine’s got her mug to her lips when she breaks the silence.

“I still want you to tell me about yourself – but you don’t have to give me any of the gritty stuff. Besides demon slaying, any talents?”

“Taught myself guitar and drums out of sheer boredom. I had a lot of free time growing up.” He answers without hesitation. “What about you?”

“Cooking is probably mine. Mom and dad were always tending to our animals, so grandma made use of me by having me help in the kitchen. _Oh, Featherine – you’re a natural_! She would say.” Featherine chuckles, “ _Se aprende tan rápido_!”

“I hope you know you’re creating high expectations, right?” Dante scoops his ice cream into his mouth, giving a teasing wink.

“I’m confident. As long as you aren’t asking me to replicate something completely foreign, I know I can do it.” She hums, “Next question – where are you on a typical Saturday night?”

“Jesus, you sound like some online dating website.”

“It’s important – I’m sure you’re curious about me, no?”

“Hm. You got me there. Usually, I’m at a bar. Most of the time I’m alone, other times I’m with Lady and Trish – we like to gamble. I suck at it, but I have fun. And fun’s all that matters, right?”

“I see what Lady meant about you being in debt to her.”

“Oh _c’mon_ , she told you? I knew leaving you with them was a terrible idea.”

The blonde can’t help but giggle, knowing that was a bit of a sensitive topic for him thanks to his two lovely female companions.

“Okay – what about you, then? Typical Saturday night – if it’s not at a library.”

“Movies! I’ll see anything – even if it’s terrible. I have more fun at the terrible movies most of the time, actually.”

“ _Movies_? There’s gotta be a reason – I wont see anything unless people talk about it, ‘cause then I _gotta_ know, yunno?”

“It’s a nice escape from reality. Living in a world where there are monsters roaming about – sometimes I just want to think of a world where everyone’s a talking dog and there’s song and dance all the time.”

She’s got such a positive aura surrounding her. He can practically _see_ the way she just radiates good vibes. Dante’s outlook on life was more… cynical happy than genuine, but with Featherine he could tell that she meant every word – that she dreamed of happiness, and that if she kept her head up high, things would be alright.

He liked that.

“My turn – you like music?” He asks, “This can make or break the whole date – just so you know.”

She laughs a bit harder this time, but his face remains serious.

“I do. I used to frequent 80s clubs. I like what the synth can do.”

“Alright – I can live with that.”

“I saw your vinyl collection back in your office. Metal-head, I see?”

“Just a bit. On longer drives, it’s not a rare sight to see me jamming out to fuckin’ Beyonce, though.”

“I hope you know that means I have to stick around for as long as I possibly can. I can’t leave until I see that.”

* * *

 “I can’t believe you – I’m offering to make _anything_ and you’re asking for a pizza.” Featherine gives Dante a disappointed frown, though he can tell that she’s only teasing.

“Well, if you can get my favorite right, then I won’t have any problem trusting whatever else you cook up for me.”

“That’s true, I guess.”

She carries multiple paper bags in her arms as they make their way down the dimly lit alleyway. Dante’s got a handful too, since she bought enough to hopefully last him the week. Dante’s _stunned_ because she didn’t make him pay – at all. In fact, she insisted that she buy all of it, since she felt bad that he’s been living on certified junk food for god knows how long. He’s not sure how much money she’s got, but she was very quick to whip out her debit card, not even budgeting how much they had in the cart.

He couldn’t fathom living a life that easy – even if he was doing substantially better than he had been a few years past.

Money would’ve solved a lot of his difficulties.

They’re walking close to each other, too. He occasionally feels her hip bump against his own, and he’s not entirely sure if she’s doing it on purpose. She’s got a serene smile on her face throughout the entire walk, and it doesn’t break whenever he looks at her.

“Are you opposed to trying new things?” Is what she asks next, and it’s kind of a tricky question.

“ _Opposed_? No. I just like sticking with what I’m used to.”

“I’m just curious – if you were to go to the fanciest restaurant in town, you’d still get a pizza?”

“Probably.” He laughs, “I dunno – my mom liked to cook a lot. She was pretty okay at it.”

“Mm, pretty okay?”

“She’d haunt me in my dreams if I said anything else.” He’s smiling, fondly remembering his mother’s hot headedness. “After she died, and I was left on my own, I couldn’t get my hands on anything she used to make. The few times I did, just made me feel sick. Like I couldn’t eat anything without being reminded of her.”

She’s listening intently, shifting the bags in her arms. Dante’s not really used to talking about himself, his trauma is not something he speaks about – to anyone, really. Friends have tried to get it out of him, but he’s never let them get that far. Yet, with Featherine, he actually _wants_ to talk about it. He has no idea why and it’s so confusing it actually frustrates him.

“I guess it’s just a habit I never grew out of. I never had any reason to change it, so I never did.”

“Well, I guess I’m your reason, then.”

Dante chuckles, playfully bumping his hip against hers, causing her to stumble a little. She’s seemingly offended at first, but her eyes light up as she pushes him back.

“If you drop those groceries, you’re rebuying them!” Featherine laughs, watching as he shifts the bags in his arm, freeing one to place around her shoulder, tugging her close. She doesn’t hesitate, though her cheeks turn pink as she feels his hand against her arm.

The feeling is so nice – she doesn’t mind at all that they haven’t known each other for too long. It just feels _right_ , he feels genuine and maybe it’s just because it’s been so long since she bonded with _anybody_ , but she’s willing to see how long this is going to go for.

She leans into his touch, pressing herself into his side. He’s so warm, and he smells strongly of cologne, but it’s a scent she could get used to. She’s overwhelmed with this feeling of longing, she’s sort of starstruck.

“Miss - !”

A voice calls out from behind them, pulling them to a stop. Dante looks over his shoulder first, a young girl standing a few feet away. She’s not even vaguely threatening, but she looks startled. Like she knows something.

Featherine turns with Dante, facing the stranger. She’s pointing at their feet, an unusual sight trailing behind them.

“Flowers are sprouting from your feet!”

They both look down, spotting the odd arrangement of flowers leading up to Featherine’s pumps, vines wrapped around her ankles. She makes an effort to step out of it, away from the flowers, but more grow in her footsteps. Her pink face turns deep red, looking away from Dante as if she wanted to hide it.

“H-How strange…” Featherine gives a nervous laugh, clutching onto the grocery bags in her arms. “I’ve never seen this before. This city has some quirks, doesn’t it?”

“Cut the bullshit.” The young woman’s voice is sharp, and her features harden. She’s got her hands balled into fists, and she looks as though she’s ready to draw some sort of weapon.

Dante’s faster, however, having Rebellion out and ready, keeping his steady grip on the groceries in his free arm.

“You better be careful, you freak.” The stranger backs away, slowly, Dante can smell the fear coming from her. “There are people who would kill you if they saw that freaky shit happening in broad daylight.”

“Kid, it’s not smart to make empty threats like that, yunno.”

“Oh, it’s not an empty threat. Come Spring, they will be set free.”

“If you’re not out of my face in five seconds, you’re gonna regret it.” Dante’s eyes narrow, and he walks forward. The girl backs further away with every step he takes, and he _knows_ she’s got nothing to hurt him with.  
  
Rebellion is practically _touching_ her when she decides it would be wiser to run off. Dante knows better than to hurt any human, especially one that’s obviously still a child. It’s not a face he’s used to seeing either, she’s not from around here, and she had been following them for a while, if his abilities aren’t lying to him. 

He decides not to chase after her, but he remembers her scent. He remembers what she looks like, what she sounds like. She’s after Featherine, and he’s pretty positive that she’s got friends.

He turns back, meeting Featherine’s violet gaze. She’s clutching onto the grocery bags, and she seems distraught, he can’t quite blame her.

“You’re alright?”

She nods, looking past him, as if to see if the girl is still in sight. Dante approaches her, cautiously, not wanting to startle her anymore than she already is. He places his sword back in it’s carrier, adjusting his own bags in his arm, enabling him to place his free hand on the top of her head.

“She’s human. She didn’t have any weapons – that was a pretty stupid move of her to make.” He sighs, “I don’t particularly like fighting anything that’s not from the underworld, but she’d have to go through me if she _really_ wanted to get to you.”

“I’m okay, Dante. Um – thank you. I mean, I guess I didn’t feel as threatened as I should’ve been. I feel safe with you. I just don’t want to be standing here useless while you do all of the work.”

“Don’t worry about that. This is what I do for a living, babe. Besides, I wasn’t gonna let some brat ruin my goddamn date.”

Featherine can’t help but laugh a little, finally walking to his side, allowing them to pick up where they left off, his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.

“In all seriousness – I’d feel better if you stayed with me until we get this whole thing sorted out.” Dante gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Now that we know that these people are active – I don’t want to take any chances.”

“I really appreciate everything you’ve been doing for me.” Featherine rests her head against him, taking a deep breath. “I’ll find someway to repay you, I promise.”

“Well, showing me a nice home cooked meal is definitely more than enough repayment.” He grins, “I’m easier to please than you think.”

* * *

 

Though they got back to the office somewhat late, they were still filled with so much energy. By some miracle, Featherine got Dante’s kitchen completely functional, and he was in awe watching her work her magic right in front of his eyes. He didn’t get off completely easy, though, as she required his help quite a bit. 

He kicked his jukebox on, as it played his intense industrial metal throughout the entire building. It was comical to see Featherine get so _into it_ , since he really didn’t picture her as the type. But she did everything with a smile on her face, and once she finally got the pizza into the oven, turned the atmosphere into a small mosh pit, much to Dante’s amusement.

Even after having her life threatened, she found ways to bring happiness to herself, and he caught himself staring in admiration. The way her long, layered, blonde hair danced as she shook her head, and how she seemingly knew all the words to this music he’d never think she’d listen to only made him fall harder for her.

Dante didn’t believe in fate, but he think he’d make an exception this time around. He was completely fucking smitten.

Only a few hours had passed by the time they had both finished eating, and he had her practically on his lap on his shitty couch.

How she managed to blow his mind through a _pizza_ was completely beyond him, but she didn’t lie. She cooked up the best damn food he’d had in a while, and the only thank you that she would accept was the fact that he enjoyed it as much as he did.

A few glasses of wine later, the music had died down a bit, and they were sitting in near darkness, chatting idly over trivial things. She had her legs over his lap, as she rested against his side. His free hand combed through her hair, admiring how soft it was. Surely she was tired, after the long day they had, and after all the screaming she did to his vinyl records. Her eyes drifted closed as her head leaned against his shoulder, sighing gently in what he thought was satisfaction.

They had only known each other for a week, and maybe things were moving a little fast, but it didn’t feel wrong at all. It was supposed to be like this – he felt comfortable with her.

“So, after all that, does a second date sound plausible? Or am I being too confident?”

“I think this one went pretty well.” She replies, pressing herself even closer to him, enjoying his warmth. “Now you know what my special talents can do.”

“Mmm – yeah, it’s gonna be hard to ever resist that again.” He laughs, “You weren’t fuckin’ kidding.”

He’s having a hard time resisting her. She’s nestled so close to him, and by this point, he’s pretty sure it can be considered cuddling. He takes a sip of his wine, or whatever’s left of it before he gains the courage to set it down, and pull her onto his lap. She doesn’t resist, though she’s hesitant at first, he’s not sure why, but once he’s got both his arms around her she relaxes, allowing him to get a better look at her face.

Her bangs swept off to the side of her round face, blonde layers messily tucked behind her ears. He couldn’t hold back a grin, as he admired her earrings – white feathers. _How fitting_. She wore a lot of makeup, too, but her skill was near professional, or at least he thought. She wore warm tones that complimented her dark skin nicely, eyeliner sharper than his sword, lipstick redder than his coat. He found himself reaching his hand to her cheek, gently caressing her with his thumb, somewhat surprised to see that none of her contour was getting smudged at all – _damn_ she was good.

Violet eyes focused on him intently, though she seemed calm from what he could tell. He wasn’t saying much, but neither was she. Maybe she was doing the same thing, and admiring his messy appearance. For what it was worth, he thought he pulled it off quite well.

“You’re really beautiful, you know that?”

Dante blinks twice, staring at Featherine in confusion. It’s the last thing he ever expected to hear from her mouth, but he can’t help but laugh. She beat him to the punch.

“Ah – I’m okay.” He runs his fingers through her hair, brushing against her earring, pleased with the little jingle noise it made as he moved it. “Beautiful isn’t something I’m really used to.”

She’s blushing, but she smiles regardless, delicate hands against his chest.

“I mean it… I’ve never seen hair like yours… and your eyes, they’re so blue.” Her voice is quiet, but she’s got such a look of curiosity on her face, and she’s leaning into his touch. “I can hardly believe that someone like you is… interested in me.”

He shakes his head, his icy gaze met with her own.

“That’s not fair.” He leans in, his nose gently brushing against her own. “If I’m beautiful then you’re ethereal.”

He probably sounded like some cheesy fucking romance novel, but he was telling the truth. If he didn’t know any better, he’d insist that she was some sort of angel. She fit the aesthetic, and he found it super ironic that he, a literal demon-human hybrid, was falling head over heels for this simple flower nymph.

She’s left speechless by his compliment, pursing her lips together as she collects herself. She takes a deep breath, eyes closing as she rubs her nose against his, earning a chuckle from the white haired man.

Ethereal was a compliment she wasn’t told too often, and after the week she’d had of being threatened and her harmless abilities labeling her a freak, it was so hard to think of a proper response. Dante’s unleashing this side of her that she never knew she had. 15 years of being unable to trust anyone, of being too afraid to be herself, and suddenly she meets this person who’s able to drive all of those feelings away.

All the times she had been used and tossed to the curb once she started to expose her true self.

But now she’s here and this near stranger is whole heartedly accepting her for everything she has to offer.

She’s got her eyes squeezed shut, and _god_ she’s so nervous. His hand is caressing her face, and petting her hair, and she feels admired, she’s so embarrassed she can’t bear to look at him, and yet they’re so close to each other. Surely he can feel how shaken her breath is, or hear her heart pounding in her chest. But he doesn’t _care_ , he’s pulling her closer, even, and she can’t resist but follow his lead.

He presses her lips to hers, much to her surprise, and she initially doesn’t know what to do. He’s not kissing her with any sort of force, but he’s asking for permission, and she doesn’t know how to grant it to him.

Dante’s ready to pull back, but she suddenly gains momentum. Life doesn’t feel like it’s standing still anymore, and all she can think about is how badly she wants to kiss back.

So she does.

She can practically _feel_ him breathe with relief, as he puts a little more passion into the kiss. She’s smiling against him, arms wrapping around his neck, pulling herself in closer. She feels his stubble tickling against her skin, but it’s not uncomfortable – it feels foreign, but nice.

Dante’s the first to pull back, if only just to breathe, but his eyes are brighter than before, and he’s got his hands against her waist.

“You scared me.” He chuckles, resting his forehead against hers. “I thought I was being too forward.”

“Not forward enough.” She pulls him down for another, shifting his position so she was underneath him, laying flat on the couch. Her lips are soft against his, and he’s almost afraid that he’s going to ruin them, but he’s gentle enough where he knows that she’s going to enjoy himself.

He keeps his weight off of her as best as he can, but with how tight her hold is on him, he’s not sure if he can keep it up any longer.

Dante pulls away, gazing deep into her eyes. She’s smiling at him and he feels like his heart is going to burst. He gently lowers himself onto her, feeling as she shifted beneath him, giving him enough room on the sofa so they could swap positions. She’s so small, so she fits on top of him nicely. He closes his eyes, as she rests her head against his chest, enjoying the serenity of the moment.

“You don’t think this is the wine, do you?”

He laughs at that, shaking his head in response.

“It takes a lot more than a few glasses of wine to get me tipsy, babe.”

She grins, nuzzling her face into the fabric of his shirt.

“Yeah. Me too.”


	4. Mission 04

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanna thank everyone who's still reading! I really appreciate the positive feedback I've been gettin' from this lil story. I'm still working out the details but I hope this has been enjoyable thus far!

“Agh – Fuck!”

Dante kicks his shitty old radiator for the 10th time in a row.

If there was one thing that Dante _truly_ hated, it was the bitter cold. Being half demon had it’s perks, such as an elevated body temperature, but when the weather decided to drop a few digits below zero, even he couldn’t stand it.

His city had only two types of winter – a winter where it was fairly mild and snowed maybe twice throughout the season, and a winter where father Christmas himself decided to trap all of humanity in a bitter frosty hell of never ending flurries that trapped him inside of his goddamn office. This time around, the true face of the season decided to show itself a bit later – just a few days ago it was warm enough to leave his coat at home (not that he would ever do that) and today he felt like he needed to wear four at once.

Poor Featherine was buried under a multitude of blankets, trying to keep warm as she watched some action movie on his TV.

She looks over at him, a look of despair on her face as she realizes the consequences of the radiator practically exploding at 3 o’clock in the morning, scaring the piss out of both of them. They compromised by sleeping on the couch, with Dante bragging about his naturally warm body temperature, but when he woke up and was able to see his breath, he was determined to get the damn thing started again. At least until it was late enough to go and buy a new one.

He realizes that kicking it probably isn’t going to do much, but it hasn’t let him down the past 30 times that it’s blown up on him. Though having to kick a radiator in order to get it to work was probably a good sign that he should’ve gotten a new one years ago.

He stares at it for a few more seconds before he gives up, retreating back to the couch where Featherine holds the blanket up for him to join. She’s literally shivering when Dante plops next to her, and he feels so goddamn guilty that he’s letting her freeze to death in his goddamn home when he offered her hospitality over a month ago.

He pulls her into his arms, getting a surprised squeak in response, but it’s for the better. They can keep each other warm this way.

“Everything in this town opens at 10. I’ll go out and get a space heater or something in like, an hour or something.” He mutters, tightening his hold on the smaller woman. “…And I’ll call over a repair man, I guess. God, this is gonna cost me a fortune.”

“Dante – you know I’m more than willing to help you out if it’s going to be _that_ much money. I’m sort of living here too, it’s the least I can do.”

“You cook dinner like, every night and buy all of the groceries. How are you not completely broke by now?”

“I inherited everything from my family’s business, I thought you knew that.”

That made sense.

“I can afford it, don’t worry, babe.” He leans his cheek on top of her head, smelling the sweet scent of strawberries coming from her hair. She was such a fucking tease. “I never thought I’d say this, but not ordering take out every day saves me like… 300$ a week. Incredible.”

“How did you even live before I came along?”

“People felt bad for me.” He laughs, pausing for a moment. “You smell really fucking good.”

“New shampoo. I was tired of smelling like old spice.”

Dante yawns, nestling closer to Featherine under the blankets. Getting sleep on his generally uncomfortable couch was near impossible, so he can only imagine that she’s as tired as he is. He knows that for money’s sake, he’s gotta keep the place open for today, but he almost wants to say ‘fuck it’ so he can catch a few more hours of sleep in his own bed. Maybe Featherine would join, too. He could only hope.

His room was where he sort of allowed himself to get as messy as he’d possibly like, but with the slowly blossoming _romance_ he had going on with the flower nymph, he had been keeping it organized as much as he could manage.

_Juuuuust in case_.

Featherine had been around for a month, by now, and she truly was a great addition to the business. Lady was _ecstatic_ to have another human around, one that understood why Dante’s lifestyle was kind of a wreck, even though she admitted that she found him endearing that way, and _both_ Dante and Trish were thrilled to find that she understood how to run a business better than anybody they’d ever met, really.

She claimed that she paid a lot of attention to her animal shelter business her family had, considering she would’ve inherited it if it didn’t get destroyed, and she was just applying her knowledge to Dante’s situation.

It wasn’t just the lack of take out that was saving him money, but he wasn’t about to admit that just yet.

And furthermore, he just overall loved having the company. She was a bit eccentric at times, but he found that they were able to bond with each other due to their status as… misfits, for lack of a better word.

She wasn’t up to date on Dante’s demonic heritage (or if she was, she was really goddamn good at hiding it) but they shared a lot of the same feelings regarding themselves. Featherine was proud of who she was, but she didn’t exactly feel safe flaunting it. She felt a disconnection to most people due to her abilities, but with Dante she felt completely the opposite. There was a _strong_ connection between the two – and she hardly knew what to do with it.

She liked being in his company, and she liked all the attention he gave her. Lady and Trish’s stories made Featherine think that he would be a non-stop horndog, but surprisingly he gave her quite a bit of space. He only made his moves when the situation was appropriate, and most of the time, she kissed first.

By this point, any normal person would consider them _dating_ , but they were both hesitant to call themselves anything more than just friends. It _enraged_ Lady and Trish – even Nero called them out on their attraction to one another. He’d never seen two people click together so fast, before.

Even through all of the strange Featherine had seen, she never questioned _any_ of it. Perhaps it was because of her own status as _magical freak_ , but all of Dante’s weapons, his strange healing abilities, the fact that he hung around a _literal_ demon, and that his nephew had a claw for a hand – it didn’t phase her at all. She said she felt like she fit in here, better than anywhere else she’d ever been.

Devil May Cry was a home to yet another new person.

“Business should be slow today. The weather doesn’t seem like it’s going to be holding up.”

Her voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and he checks the time. He doesn’t know how long he’d been sitting there with her, but he’s supposed to open up soon. Once the clock hits 10, anybody is allowed to barge through his door, and it would be quite a sight to find this six foot tall demon man buried underneath a bunch of blankets in his freezing cold building with a tiny blonde woman.

“I hope so…” He mutters, taking a few more moments to enjoy Featherine’s warmth before he has to venture into the freezing cold in order to find someone to fix his heater. “I need a nap. Sleeping on this couch is hard – I dunno how I was ever able to do it.”

“Mm, I guess I didn’t have it that bad. I was on top of you all night.” She can’t help but grin, turning her head to press a gentle kiss to Dante’s cheek. “You were right, by the way. Why _are_ you so much warmer than I am?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you that story tonight. If we’re gonna be stuck wrapped in one blanket all night, I can at least make things interesting.”

“So is this date number two then?”

“Yeah, why not. Trapped inside a room where it’s below freezing, watching some cheesy action movie. Sounds good to me.”

She giggles, much to Dante’s satisfaction.

He half _groans_ when the clock strikes 10 and decides that he should probably get the day started. He doesn’t want to leave the warmth and comfort of the blanket cocoon, but he takes one for the team, kissing Featherine on the top of the head before he begrudgingly removes himself from the couch.

A sharp noise sounds throughout the room as a letter is shoved underneath his doorway at a fast pace.

The two stare at the envelope for a minute before they look at each other. Dante already knows what this is about, but now Featherine is seeing this for herself. This wasn’t an average morning at Devil May Cry, and he can see the discomfort in her eyes.

Knowing that ignoring it would make matters worse, he picks it up and tears it open, reading the content inside.

“All it says is _320_.” Dante speaks, turning his attention to Featherine again. “There’s no weird message. Just those numbers.”

“Dante, today’s date is February 20th.” She’s quiet, “220. If it’s a date on that letter, 320 is a month from now. The first day of Spring, no?”

“Ah. There we go. That explains the whole _migration_ thing. Good detective work.”

“So… we have a date, but where are these letters coming from? What are we supposed to _do_ on 320?”

“Well, I’m confident that they’re not gonna see their plans through.” He places the letter on his desk, glancing over it one last time before he heads towards the stairs. “But I’m at a loss. I’ve got no lead on them, babe. But they’re gonna start showing their faces real soon – and that’s all I’ll need.”

* * *

 

One space heater did not do the office any justice.

Dante’s half tempted to utilize one of his devil arms, but he knows better. He’s not looking to burn the entire building down, but _god_ is it freezing.

The two found themselves on the floor, this time, huddled up together in front of the tiny little space heater that Dante was able to get his hands on. The repair man would be there by tomorrow afternoon, with no guarantee that he’d be able to fix it right then and there, but it was a start. Were they going to spend the next few weeks frozen in his office? Or were they going to find salvation in a fixed radiator? Or was Dante going to have to dish out a couple hundred for a new one.

His life was simply that unpredictable.

By the time he got back from shopping around, Featherine had already prepared a meal and had moved on to action film number 4. There were no calls or visitors, considering the freezing cold, so a fairly boring day was to be anticipated.

Luckily, the heat from the kitchen warmed the place up, even if it was just a little bit, but he knew that heat would die down eventually. He figured Featherine would want to sleep in a real bed for tonight, instead of squeezing onto his uncomfortable couch with him, so being the gentleman that he was, decided that he would hand off the space heater to her once it was time for them to pass out. He could live with the cold for eight hours, his blanket was thick enough.

He’s staring absent mindedly at the TV, some science fiction thriller that really wasn’t all that interesting. She doesn’t seem too interested in it either, but she’s not willing to move from the small area that the space heater is heating up.

She hasn’t been talkative since this morning, either.

That was a thing that Dante was beginning to notice. She didn’t have too many off days, from what he’s witnessed, but whenever she was in distress, she quieted down a _lot_. She responded to questions and laughed at Dante’s bad jokes, but she was nowhere near as lively as she usually was. She completely zoned out, like she was trapped in her thoughts.

This only really happened when her family’s assassins were brought up, so it wasn’t unreasonable, in fact, he completely understood but he didn’t want her to dwell on it too much. He was going to figure it out – he promised he would.

“Hey, princess.” He breaks the silence, averting his gaze from the TV. “Let’s talk.”

She looks up at him, her jaw clenching slightly.

Dante runs a hand through his hair, leaning back against the bottom of the couch. He’s pondering, trying to figure out a good way to go about it. He doesn’t want to sound _full_ of himself, because quite frankly, he never thought he was anything special despite being the son of the demon that saved all of humanity. Rather, he didn’t want to be anything special.

This was going to be tedious.

“I _hate_ talking about myself but I guess it’s important. You should know – unless you already do know and I’m just making an ass of myself.”

“Know what?” Violet eyes show confusion. She’s leaning back with him, now, snaking her arms around his waist as she focuses on his gaze.

“You know the legend of Sparda, right? That none of it’s myth – s’all true. If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t have a job.”

“Yes… yes, of course.” Featherine furrows her eyebrows. “I’ve always known it was true.”

“You know he had two sons.”

She nods quietly, focusing all of her attention onto his expression.

“You know that I’m one of them.”

“You are?”

She’s quick to respond, but her eyes widen. She loosens her hold on him and stares, _shocked_. Maybe he really _was_ that good at keeping his identity on the DL.

Now that it’s out in the open, he’s got no idea on how to follow up on it. Was that all he had to say? He just wanted her to know and that was it? He was doing real great.

‘Truthfully, I kind of had an idea. When you mentioned Fortuna when we first met – and you said that Nero was your _nephew_. Practically everyone who knows of that incident knows that Sparda’s decedents stopped it from happening. He’s keeping quiet, but the town practically celebrates him, no?” Featherine looks away, “I only knew of the incident through word of mouth. Then you tell me where it all took place, that it _was_ a real occurrence. It started to add up a bit too quickly.”

Maybe he _wasn’t_ that good at keeping his identity on the DL.

“And then when I practically broke your nose last month opening that door. You didn’t have a scratch on you – you’re durable, sure, but I opened that door quite hard.”

He can’t help but laugh, leaning his head back. He lets her have her space, despite how tempted he is to play with her hair.

“Yeah, my body heals after a few seconds. You’re observant, though – most people don’t realize that unless they stab me. But you notice after a broken nose.”

“I didn’t want to press you about it – I figured there was a reason you weren’t telling me any of this.”

“Didn’t wanna scare you away.”

Featherine practically snorts, covering her mouth with her hand. She’s so taken aback by his seriousness she’s afraid that she looks like a _huge_ asshole. She stops herself, pulls back so she can see his expression – but she’s giving him a genuine smile.

“You’re not scary.”

“Well – you haven’t seen me in action.”

“When we first met, you had your giant sword ready to attack, Dante. It was a bit off putting, but once you explained _why_ you looked the way you did I knew I could trust you.”

He takes a deep breath, running a single hand through his hair. He’s staring at the wall, trying to organize his thoughts. Featherine moves forward, placing a hand against his chest.

“Hey… you think I’m afraid because you’re not entirely human?”

She feels him relax, and he places his hand on top of her head, stroking her hair soothingly. She leans into his touch, allowing him to pull her closer. He’s embracing her now, and she can feel his warmth again, she can’t help but return it, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

“Why did you decide to tell me at all?” She asks, “I don’t blame you for wanting to keep it a secret.”

He presses his lips to her forehead, his hold on her tight.

“’Cuz I like you. Figured I should get it out of the way now – like, imagine if we were on a date and something attacked us and I just… transformed. I can imagine that would be pretty fuckin’ weird.”

“Maybe a little.” She laughs.

“And I know you’re worried. Scared of those murderers. I don’t blame you – but I thought maybe you’d feel better knowing you’ve got me on your side. I don’t wanna get cocky – but I don’t lose.”

Featherine looks up, meeting his gaze. He’s serious – she can see it in his eyes.

She’s _astonished_ that the thing he’s mainly concerned about is her safety, and how comfortable she feels. She can’t comprehend it. From day one he’s been set on protecting her, giving her space when she needed it. Sure they had quite a romantic bond growing, faster than she could’ve imagined, but in the end wooing her wasn’t his top priority.

Featherine knew that he was avoiding telling her because he didn’t want to frighten her. He felt comfortable enough with her that he _wanted_ to tell her – but given the chance that she _was_ frightened and she decided to run – it would’ve at least been short lived.

But when Featherine looked at Dante, she saw a future. 

If he was telling her this information before things really got started, then she could only imagine that he felt the same.

She tightens her hold around him, squeezing him affectionately with a small smile on her face. He seems to relax, exhaling air he didn’t even know he was holding in.

“I’m quite honored that this legendary demon hunter is the one that’s keeping me out of danger.” Featherine hums, “I feel like I’ve been making out with some sort of celebrity.”

“Oh _c’mon_.” He bops his forehead against hers. “I hate when you show me up on the flattery.”

Dante pets her hair back, pushing her bangs out of her face, sweeping them behind her ear.

“When I saw you – when you told me your story, I dunno. It hit home. You deserve vengeance. A world where you’re safe.”

Their faces are close, and Dante’s about ready to go for another kiss when she places a finger to his lips.

“I really enjoyed your warmth last night.” She smiles. “Would you mind if I spent the night with you?”

He half explodes.

* * *

 

Something about Fortuna felt… _off_. 

Town preparations for the Festival were practically finished, and the city was looking like it had never been the subject of a giant demon attack. There were still some, slipping through the cracks, but those were easy to take care of. Nero made a lot of money by being the resident demon exterminator but nothing like that ever made the town feel weird.

Demons were practically part of their culture – but this wasn’t.

He can’t shake the feeling, no matter how hard he tries. He feels like he’s being followed and it’s driving him a little nuts. He tries not to roam around town with his weapons, since he knows it makes people a little nervous, but he could hardly justify leaving his apartment without them today. Kyrie questioned him about it, too, but he made up some bullshit excuse that he was gonna look for another hell gate that all the tiny ones were escaping from.

He wandered far enough out of town where it would’ve been believable, but he knew he had to lure this feeling out of the public eye.

He stops in his tracks, clenching his devil bringer, trying to concentrate on whatever his senses were picking up.

It felt more irritating than threatening,

“You should probably stop hiding.” Nero reaches for his blade, turning his head just enough to see over his shoulder. “Let’s just get this over with so I can go back home.”

“I thought Sparda’s grandson didn’t have heightened senses.”

Nero’s eyes widen when a voice _actually_ responds. He’s a little taken aback by the sound of a teenage girl giggling. He holds Red Queen out as he turns, facing the stranger face to face.

She’s so small, but she’s holding a gun at his forehead. She can’t be any older than fourteen, having pixie like features and messy blonde hair that shapes her face like a heart. She’s human.

That’s not good.

“Do your parents know where you are? I’m sure they’re concerned.” He lowers his weapon, “I know demons are kinda prevalent in our world, but if it’s the arm you’re worried about it’s no big deal. I’m harmless.”

She furrows her eyebrows, stepping forward. Her hand is shaking, he can hear her gun rattling in her grip.

“Harmless? Just _looking_ at you is damaging.”

He kind of cocks his head, unsure of whether or not that was meant to be a stab at him or his abilities. Being a descendant of Sparda wasn’t something he was really able to hide. Not in Fortuna anyway – practically everyone knew. He wasn’t treated like a celebrity, but people held him in high regards. The arm was something everyone had pretty much accepted by now.

Who was this kid?

She wasn’t from around here, and Fortuna wasn’t necessarily an easy place to get to. She was young, therefore she probably had to have been planted here by _someone_.

“What are you after?”

“Didn’t you like your life before your arm changed? I know some people who could fix that right up for you. You wont have to live your life in shame anymore.”

“Excuse me?”

She cracks a smile – she knows she’s hit a soft spot.

* * *

 

Getting a full eight hours of sleep was a rare occasion for Dante but for some odd reason – he slept like a log. Maybe it’s because he had a pretty girl pressed up against him throughout most of the night but _god_ he felt refreshed. 

It’s past 12 – he guesses. Featherine’s still sleeping away, head tucked under his chin, blonde hair tickling at his neck. They hardly moved all night, it was a new level of comfort that Dante hadn’t experienced in _years_. He could only hope that she felt the same.

Maybe he’d get up, get coffee started for her or something. Problem was that his building still had no heat, the space heater only lasted until they decided to call it quits for the night, so leaving the warmth of his bed was a trial he wasn’t quite willing to face.

He presses a soft kiss to the top of her head, not wanting to wake her. She’s cute when she sleeps, quiet – almost catlike. He can’t help but comb his fingers through her hair, gently parting it so he can see her face. He tries not to get too touchy, but his hand manages to slip underneath her sweatshirt, stroking her lower back soothingly. She lets out a soft noise, shifting slightly beside him – he can’t help but grin. This was fantastic.

He eyes the digital clock on his nightstand, deciding that it would probably be best to get up and open shop so his clients and agent don’t get too pissy with him. He’ll get the coffee going, maybe the smell would wake his sleeping swan.

He finally gains the motivation to go out into the freezing cold when he hears an irritating buzzing coming from his dresser.

He forgot that he had a cell phone.

He doesn’t want the sound to wake up Featherine, but the damn thing practically throws itself off the surface, he dives off the bed to catch it.

It’s Nero.

“Hey, kid. Missing me or somethin’?”

“ _Um_. _I have a bit of a problem. I need you to get here ASAP. Bring Featherine too._ ”

“I’m doing great, dear nephew of mine. And you?”

“ _Dante! I’m serious! Please?! I don’t know what to do._ ”

“Gimmie an hour.”

“Was that Nero?”

Dante turns, spotting Featherine sitting up in his bed. She’s got a drowsy expression on her face – he hopes he didn’t wake her.

He sighs, smiling as he approaches her, taking his place next to her again. He lays back, letting Featherine curl up beside him. He told Nero an hour, but he was confident his nephew could hold up for a few extra minutes. She’s wrapped her arms around him, eyes drifting closed.

“Looks like we gotta take a trip to Fortuna. Kid needs help with something – wouldn’t say what.” He looks towards his window. “You sleep well?”

She nods her head, “Best sleep I’ve had in years. You’re comfy.”

Dante can’t help but laugh, messying up Featherine’s hair with his free hand.

“Sorry – haven’t shared a bed in a while. I forget I can get clingy.” He kisses the top of her head. “You didn’t move all night – thought you froze to death, maybe.”

She giggles, tilting her gaze towards his. “I can’t freeze to death when I’ve got your warmth practically holding me hostage.”

Her smile lights up the whole room. She’s _adorable_.

“Yeah, well… you should get used to it. This bed’s too damn big for just one person.”

* * *

 

Nero is _panicking_. 

He didn’t know what to do. What _could_ he do? He feels terrible but he had to keep himself out of danger. Sure, a simple gun wound wouldn’t have hurt him too bad, but he’d prefer to avoid getting shot at and having to explain why he wasn’t _dead_ to the city hospital.

He paces back and forth in his living room, nervously clenching his jaw every time he looks back at the unconscious teenager tied up on his couch. If Kyrie walked in she’d have a _million_ questions so he hoped Dante got here _quick_. He didn’t know what would happen if she were to wake up. Maybe she wasn’t human… maybe she had a tracking device or something. What if she could break out of his bindings he forged out of his own power? Would she wreck his apartment? Kyrie would be _furious_.

All he really did to her was knock her against a tree – he didn’t know the momentum would snap her head back and knock her out.

But given what she was saying to him – she _had_ to have been part of that cult that Featherine was researching. They could _cure_ him of his demonic power? Total bullshit, but there was _no_ way it wasn’t related to the entire ordeal.

Why the hell would they come for Fortuna first? Because of it’s historic relationship with Sparda? That it treated it’s Hell Gates like monuments?

Was Nero an easier target than Dante was?

Well, probably, but he could’ve stood his ground. Or maybe the group wasn’t coming after him first. Maybe this brainwashed teen decided that she would take matters into her own hands and start the first fight.

He hears the girl stir in her sleep, pushing his sleeve up by sheer reflex. He faces her, ready to restrain her again – he’s prepared.

“Kid!”

Nero feels each and every one of his muscles relax as he hears Dante kick open his front door. _Thank goodness_. He runs his hand through his hair, taking a deep breath as he tries to compose himself – he’s gotta explain the situation to Dante, _clearly_. He can’t talk right when he’s panicked.

“Hey – whoa, what is this?”

Dante enters with Featherine, Lady, and Trish. He brought the whole gang – somewhat embarrassing. They all stop mid-step as they lay eyes on the girl passed out on the couch. They’re all staring in shock, and Nero feels even stupider than before.

“Okay – this looks pretty weird, but – “

“No, no. I mean, yeah it looks weird… but you said you had a problem. Is she the problem?”

Nero nods frantically, holding his index fingers to his lips. He doesn’t want her to be woken up right away – the last thing he wants is for a fight to be broken out in the comfort of his own home.

All four of his guests give a nod in understanding, though Trish takes a few steps forward, getting a better look at the girl. She can tell something’s a bit off with her.

“I’ve been getting followed around all morning. I knew it, too. I could feel her watching me – so I walked to the outskirts of town. She pulls a gun on me, says she can _heal my arm_.” He explains, watching as she shifts around on the couch. She’s waking up – she knows she’s been restrained.

“You don’t think…” Featherine places her hand over her mouth, violet eyes focused on the teenager. She backs away slowly.

“S-So I was trying to get her to back off. She knocks her head on a tree and she’s out cold. I panicked and took her back here… she’s been out for three hours now.”

“Doesn’t look like she’s gonna be gone for much longer.” Lady motions to the girl – her eyes are fighting sleep, she’s trying to lift her head.

“She held a _gun_ at you, Nero?”

“Yeah… she didn’t have any abilities. I mean, I can’t tell if she does, but she seems pretty human to me.”

The girl opens her eyes, immediately overcome with fear. She struggles as she attempts to free herself of her bindings, to no avail – she opens her mouth to scream but Dante is quick to restrain her, covering her mouth with his hand. She can’t kick or fight him off, but she squirms so much it’s hard for Dante to keep her still. He doesn’t want to hurt the damn kid, but it would be in nobody’s best interest if a neighbor came knocking on Nero’s door.

“What should we do with her?” Trish asks, folding her arms underneath her bust. “Keeping her would be _kidnapping_ , don’t you think?”

Dante curses as she bites down on his hand, though he doesn’t pull away no matter how much she’s making him bleed. All over Kyrie’s nice couch, too.

“She’s probably got answers.” He retorts, “I don’t know what she’ll give us but it’s worth a shot, no?”

Nero kneels down beside Dante, holding her down to the best of his ability – it all feels so wrong, but he can hardly justify any of her actions and think about letting her go.

“We’re not gonna hurt you, kid.” Dante’s voice is hardly reassuring to the girl in panic, but it’s the best he can do while she’s restrained. “C’mon, you can’t just pull a gun on someone and get away with it.”

“Ugh, she’s just a child. Can’t you be a little more empathetic?” Lady rolls her eyes, stepping closer to them. “Take your hand off her mouth.”

He practically yanks his bloody hand away, shaking off the pain as his wound heals nearly instantaneously. Featherine grabs Dante by the arm, pulling him back, holding onto him for her own emotional support. Lady kneels next to the couch, keeping herself a safe distance away – just in case.

“Somebody sent you, right?” She asks. “Why? What were you planning on doing today?”

“L-Let me go!” The girl shouts, “They’re gonna find out that I’m missing and they’re gonna shoot all of you!”

She spits in Lady’s direction, gritting her teeth.

_She’s trembling._

Featherine clutches onto the fabric of Dante’s coat, staring at the teenager intently. There’s something strange about her – she can’t put her finger on why. The girl is pressed into the couch, trying to back away from all of them.

_She’s terrified_.

She doesn’t blame Nero for taking the actions that he did. His life was in danger – she’s have done the same thing had she been capable. But she can’t justify keeping this girl here – she’s on the verge of tears. There were consequences for her actions, but keeping her tied up felt wrong.

“What the fuck?!” Lady kicks the chair over as she steps out of it, wiping off her cheek. “You rat!”

The flower nymph takes a step forward, releasing her hold on Dante as she gains the courage to approach her enemy. Lady steps away, disgusted, though surprised that Featherine is moving forward.

“They're threatening to kill you, aren’t they?” Featherine asks, “You’re not normal either – but they promised to save you if you worked for them.”

The young girl is silent for a moment, and she looks into Featherine’s eyes. She knows something’s up – the girl can’t hide it.

“Just fucking let me go! I wasn’t going to kill any of you! Not today!” She kicks her feet into the sofa, trying to throw herself off the couch. “Fortuna is ridden with demons! It has to be destroyed!”

“You _do_ realize that it’s my _job_ to destroy all of the demons here, right?” Nero scoffs.

“Then kill yourself!” She spits, “Y-You may be of human and demon blood but you’re no better than those who kill innocent people every day!”

“Nero – she’s scared of us.” Dante sighs and steps back. He looks back at Lady, who nods in understanding.

A child like this, who’s been brainwashed, was hard to console. Dante’s identity was no secret, but not many people were able to put his name to his face. But if she knows of his family legacy, then she should know that his father was the one who _stopped_ all that demon shit 2000 years ago. Dante wouldn’t hurt a fly – unless, of course said fly was a blood thirsty demon looking to destroy all of humanity. Then he’d hurt a fly.

But whoever these people were, they weren’t telling her what all the damn history books said. If she was genuinely afraid of Dante and his friends, then these people were fucking _jaded_.

“Featherine…” He turns to the small woman, “Why did you come to that conclusion… that they’re putting her life in danger?”

“She’s like me… I know she is.” She says in a small voice, “We should let her go.”

“Let her go? She was trying to _kill_ me!”

“I wasn’t _going_ to kill you! They’d have my head if I did! Why else would I have asked you to come back with me?”

“She’s just a child. Keeping her wont do us any good. Let her leave…” Featherine looks to Dante, “They’re not going to kill her as long as she’s following their orders. Just don't let her know where we are. I don't’ want Nero’s home to get attacked by those people… Blindfold her or something – but let her go.”

“Alright.” Dante doesn’t question Featherine’s decision. She knows these people better than anybody here – he trusts her judgment. And he can’t help but agree… she’s a child – a teenager. They didn’t get much information out of her, but she’s still a start.

“D-Don’t knock me out again… please…” She whimpers, cowering backwards as Lady tears off a bit of fabric from her sleeve. “Just let me go home!”

“We’ll take her out of here.” Lady sighs, “The last thing Dante needs is to be seen with a teenager slung over his shoulder. At least let me and Trish do the honors.”

Featherine watches as their friends prepare to escort the girl out of town. They seem to have similar feelings, regarding letting her go, though Nero still seems furious. He’s clenching his fists, eyes following Lady and Trish as they blindfold the teenager, grabbing her by her arms while they lead her out of the apartment.

She feels… _bad_.

Featherine was no saint, and she wanted the people responsible for her family’s death to suffer a fate way worse, but when she looked in that girls eyes – she found something familiar. This girl knew suffering, though maybe she didn’t remember it. Featherine had met people like her, with a strange affinity for nature, and though the girl wasn’t showing any signs of being a nymph herself, she had this aura about her that she could only compare to that of her own bloodline.

Violet eyes look to Dante, and she knows that he’s got a similar idea. She’s been hypnotized by fear, it’s too obvious.

“She said Fortuna has to be destroyed. Do you think they’re coming after here first?” Nero asks, his arm is glowing brightly through his sleeve, he’s gritting his teeth.

“We destroyed most of those gates months ago, kid. But I wouldn’t be surprised if there was still a way to get past it.”

“They’re gonna come after me. Everyone knows who I am.” He’s quiet, “I’m not afraid of them – but what if they go after Kyrie too? I can’t let that happen again.”

“Can’t let what happen again?”

All three turn around, finding Kyrie as she enters the apartment. The door was left wide open, nobody heard her walk in. Nero’s gaze softens as he lays eyes on his partner, a worried expression on her face.

“Dante… and Featherine… I didn’t know you two were coming! I’d have tidied up a bit more if I knew, Nero. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“There was a bit of an emergency. Short notice – I needed their help.”

She’s frowning, stepping past them with bags in her hands. Nero was out the door before he knew that she was planning on going anywhere, he felt bad that she had gone out alone. But it was better that things panned out the way they did – he didn’t want her to be involved had he gotten attacked.

“What was the emergency?”

“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout it. Pesky demons clogging up an area. We just came to help – “

Nero stops Dante midsentence, holding his arm out. Lying to Kyrie wasn’t going to get him anywhere good.

“Kyrie, there are people who want to destroy this place. Someone was following me around, tried to hurt me. That’s why I left with my gun earlier. I didn’t want you to be in danger.”

“I’m sorry… this is my fault.” Featherine speaks in a quiet voice, she’s got her head turned away. “They’ve been tracking me for god knows how long… none of you would be in danger if I just never got involved.”

“That’s bull and you know it, ‘Rine.” Dante looks over at the small blonde, seeing how she’s got her arms wrapped around herself. She’s avoiding everyone’s gaze by keeping hers to the floor, she feels guilty.

“These people were gonna try and do all this shit whether you were involved or not. If anything, we’re lucky to have you ‘cuz if we didn’t, we’d know jack shit about what’s been going on.”

“The people who want to destroy Fortuna are the people who harmed your family, Featherine?” Kyrie places her bags on the floor and rushes to Featherine’s side. She places her hand on her shoulder, leading the older woman to the couch. “Nero – someone from that group attacked you?”

“Kinda… she was a kid. She didn’t hurt me, or anything.”

“We think that she came here to stir something up. They’ve got something planned for the first day of Spring.”

“That’s still a month away. Wait – they _told_ you?” Nero looks to his uncle, “What do they have planned? Where are they attacking first?!”

“If I knew that, they’d already be dead.”

Featherine’s clutching onto her skirt, fiddling around with the material between her fingertips. _Anxious_.

“Dante – I don’t know what to do. This town was already destroyed once, I can’t let it happen again.”

Nero collapses onto the couch in defeat, looking over to Featherine, watching how Kyrie rubs her shoulders to get her to relax, she’s got an empathetic look on her face. He feels bad that he’s panicking when Featherine’s the one who endured the majority of the trauma, but the idea of protecting the city _again_ after it had just been rebuilt was less than ideal. He’d be run out of town, for sure, even if he _was_ the grandson of the figure everyone worshipped.

“Well – they know where _I_ live too, so I’m sort of at a loss, kid.”

“Will they attack Fortuna if I’m not in it?” He asks, “Should I leave?”

“We’ve got a month to figure it out. I don’t _know_ what their big plan is, but we’ve got plenty of time to track them down and put a stop to it.”

Dante approaches Featherine, kneeling in front of her. He takes her hands into his own, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“None of this is your fault. Nobody’s gonna hurt you, got it?”

She closes her eyes, dipping her head down – Dante can’t help but place a gentle kiss to her forehead. She whispers a quiet _thank you_ , before he turns his attention back to his nephew, who’s staring wide eyed, mouth dropped open a little.

“Kid, why don’t you two come back with me? My guest room is free again.”


	5. Mission 05

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back with More!
> 
> shit boy i havent written the Deed in like a year so im sorry but yeah thts all this chapter is  
> disclaimer: i barely speak any spanish at all & im doin extensive research to make sure featherines dialogue actually makes sense so its not google translated LMAO.

It’s dark. 

Darkness wasn’t something that Purists were fond of. They’re afraid of it, as darkness is what attracts evil. Lights were always on, without fail.

She’s dreading walking in there. They only did this as a scare tactic – it wouldn’t be the first time. She reaches for her gun from her thigh holster, ready to put an end to whatever they were going to toss her way. It was often creatures that they created. Creatures that they insisted were necessary in their quest for purity. If they knew how to make them, they’d know how to stop them.

Lydia isn’t sure that she believes it.

In the desolate country side, nobody is there to stop these twisted people. Surely she knows everything they’re doing is wrong, but she’s going along with it. She doesn’t want to live in a world where she has to be afraid anymore.

She takes a few steps forward, finger on the trigger as her violet eyes scan her surroundings. She can’t see anything, but she can practically feel her peers breathing down her neck.

“Can we just get my punishment out of the way? I wasn’t supposed to sneak out and I fucked up. I didn’t know things were going to get screwed up.”

The lights flicker on as soon as she opens her mouth. It’s nearly blinding – she shields her eyes with her sleeve.

“Lydia. They know your face.”

“I just thought - !”

“You didn’t think anything! You weren’t thinking at all!”

A woman steps forward, staring down at Lydia with disapproving eyes. She lowers her gun in response.

“We do not have the _resources_ to start this fight early. We leave hints so we can have them in one place at the same time – we do not give them _any_ other information, _Lydia_.”

“I thought if we could get the young one on our side… it would give us an advantage.”

“Well you thought _wrong_.” Her voice is sharp, heels click on the floor as she approaches Lydia, grabbing for the taser on her belt. She grits her teeth as she charges it, the noise causing the teenager to jolt back in fear.

“Miss Fleance!”

The woman and Lydia look back. Eyes light up as she lays eyes on this magnificent sight.

A young man stumbles through the door, donning insect like wings, an aura glowing around him. He’s panting as he holds his arms out to his superior, claw like hands reaching out.

“Robin… it worked?”

“I-I’m so sorry, Miss Fleance. Once this is all over, I’ll change myself back. I don’t want to be this way…”

He falls to his knees, red hair covering his eyes. He’s gritting his teeth, Lydia can see his entire body trembling.

“W-Why does he look like that…” She asks, “What did you do to him?”

“Dear, Lydia. He offered. If we need a creature to defeat those monsters, then I’ll put my disgust aside. Robin is a good boy, I trust that he wont mess this up.”

“I’ll do my best, Miss Fleance. I want to make this world safe…”

He looks up, meeting Lydia’s gaze. She sees nothing but pain in his eyes – she knows this wasn’t going to end well.

* * *

 

“It’s kinda pathetic that you need my help to go on a _date_ …” 

Dante looks back at his nephew, sitting on the edge of his bed with a rather exasperated expression on his face. He’s got his chin in his hands, watching as Dante picks up his _third_ bottle of cologne. He cant’ decide on a fucking _scent_. It’s ridiculous.

“This isn’t just any date, kid.”

“God, you’re not asking her to fucking _marry_ you. Why is this taking so long?”

“C’mon. You know third date rules.”

“You’ve been _living_ with each other for over a _month_.”

Dante reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a small wrapper, waving it around nonchalantly.

“Gross.” Nero hides his face in his hands, shaking his head as he tries to forget whatever his uncle was trying to tell him. “This is why Kyrie and I are staying in a fucking hotel…”

“I just need moral support. Man, I _really_ like Featherine. God, I look at her and I feel things I haven’t felt since I was a damn teenager.”

“Real cute.”

“Nero.”

Dante leans against his dresser, staring at his nephew with determination. He’s got his arms folded over his chest, eyebrows tightly knit together. Nero straights his posture, meeting his uncle’s piercing gaze. Seriousness is written on his face.

“I can’t screw this up.”

“You’re not gonna screw up, Dante. I’ve only been here for a few days, but Featherine’s all over you. Constantly. But like, in a cute way.” Nero pushes himself off the bed, standing next to the red clad demon hunter. “She reminds me of Kyrie, sorta. But Featherine’s a lot more forward about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Hell yeah! The way she interacts with you when we’re all together, and how close she sits with you at dinner. Lady and Trish are pissed that you two aren’t an _item_ yet.”

Dante cracks a smile, much to Nero’s relief. He gives his nephew a gentle pat on the shoulder before he does a final mirror check. Not that he really needs it, and Nero knows he’s just doing it to be vain for a hot second. Taking a deep breath, Dante waltzes out of his bedroom, ready to take the flower nymph out on the romantic date of her dreams.

Nero can’t help but roll his eyes as he watches Dante leave. Dante probably didn’t need the confidence boost, but Nero didn’t fight him when he pulled him out of his office and into his bedroom to pretend like he needed advice, much to everyone’s dismay. Hell, Featherine was _in_ the office when Dante decided to panic at the last second and ditch, but she was surprisingly understanding.

_Take your time_ , she says.

She’s too good for Dante.

She’s waiting by his desk by the time he gets down there, watching as Trish and Lady play a game of pool. Kyrie’s going through Dante’s record collection, taking notes and coming to a clear understanding of where Nero gets his taste in music.

It’s been like this for a few days, now. Nero and Kyrie were staying in the hotel across the street – the fancy one that celebrities often slept in – though they spent a majority of their time in Dante’s office regardless. Featherine and Kyrie were getting along swimmingly, bonding over things ranging from their love of cooking, to their shared taste in clothing.

He’d never admit it, but Dante was more than thrilled to have everyone together. The place is lively, and he’s surrounded by people he cares about.

The crew had decided to throw Dante and Featherine out for the night, however. They hadn’t gotten much alone time _because_ everyone was here, so they told the two to treat themselves for tonight. Nero would watch the place until they got back – he needed to get used to having a business anyway.

Dante approaches Featherine at his desk, holding his hand out to her.

“Sorry about that. I’m ready when you are.”

Featherine offers a smile in return, taking Dante’s hand as he helps her up.

“Where you guys headed?” Lady chimes in. The two turn around, finding her and Trish giving them Cheshire like grins.

“Dinner.” He says, feeling Featherine link her arm with his. “Trish, Lady – Nero’s in charge. So don’t fuck with my stuff.”

They both roll their eyes, looking to the teenager with disapproval. Nero’s somewhat shocked, though he takes Dante’s word seriously. If he’s putting this responsibility on _him_ instead of the two women he’s known for twenty years, he’ll take it.

“Have fun, lovebirds!” Kyrie waves them out the door.

They all wait until it closes shut, and Dante and Featherine are down the street. They stay quiet for a moment, before they all turn to look at one another.

“We’re out of here by 10.” Nero says, “Staying any later is risky.”

* * *

 

It was easy to pick a nice place to eat out at now that Dante wasn’t thousands of dollars in debt. And it was all thanks to Featherine’s educated budgeting skills, too. Taking her out was the _least_ he could do for her. 

Dinner itself was fine. Featherine insisted that they didn’t need to eat anywhere expensive, but Dante chose expensive anyway. If only just to show off.

Living together made conversation a lot easier than it had been the first time. There were no ice breakers that needed to be done, so they were just able to be themselves. It was nice, for the two of them.

Neither Dante nor Featherine were lightweights by any means, but a few drinks made them feel a lot more relaxed than they had been. It was silly to think that Dante was nervous about going on a _date_ , but considering he saw a future with Featherine, he was taking it more seriously than he normally would’ve.

He’s got his arm around her shoulder as they walk home in the moonlight. She knew the way, by now, but he insisted on taking her on a little detour. He called it a shortcut, she knew he was lying.

It’s still fairly cold out, so she’s basking in his warmth. He’s wearing a coat she’d only seen a handful of times. It’s larger than his others, lined with faux fur, with a thick hood covered in it. He had the right idea. She’s practically huddled inside of it with how he’s holding her, but he can probably tell that she’s cold.

He almost feels bad that he’s taking her out of the way for a cheesy attempt at romance, especially in this bitter weather, but it’ll be over quickly, he thinks.

“I always thought it was kinda weird. This park has this giant statue of my father – I pass it all the time. Nobody really thinks anything of it.”

“Does it bother you?”

They step in front of the monument, illuminated by the flickering streetlights scattered throughout the area. Dante pulls Featherine to his chest, wrapping both arms around her, staring idly at the statue.

“Nah. I’ve long accepted that dad’s always gonna be seen as this highly regarded hero. He deserves it – worked hard to get there. This place doesn’t take him too seriously, which I like. I think I’d go nuts if I had to be in Nero’s community.”

She makes a small noise of acknowledgment, resting her head above his collarbone.

“I don’t mind the statue. It kind of makes me feel like he’s still around. Like he’s giving me his blessing and shit.”

He takes a deep breath, pressing his lips to the crown of Featherine’s head.

“Like, I’m a grown man. Don't need it – it’s still nice, though.” Dante laughs, “I used to come here a lot as a teenager. Talk to this dumb statue and ask it if I was doing what he’d have wanted.”

He feels like an idiot standing here with her. He shouldn’t have started this damn conversation with his daddy issues. Featherine’s _so_ understanding though, she doesn’t question it one bit. She’s pressed against him tightly, nestling into his warmth.

He pulls back, only slightly, and takes her chin into his fingertips, tilting her gaze his way.

“We’ve only known each other for a little over a month, yeah?”

“That’s right.” She says, violet eyes wide with curiosity. “Date number three.”

Dante pushes her bangs from her face, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear. She’s turning red as she looks up at him, he can’t help but smile.

“Dunno why, but when I look at you – I see a future. Being with you feels _natural_ , like you’re what I’ve been missin’.”

“It’s a bit early to be making that assumption, no?”

Dante finds himself slumping in his stance slightly, averting his gaze.

“Well – yeah – “

“But, I feel the same.”

He blinks twice, feeling as she takes his hands into hers.

“We’ve been on this long journey for a while. But you make me feel like I’ve finally hit home. I want you to be that missing piece.”

“So, can we be a thing then?”

Featherine laughs, nodding her head. She closes the space between them, smiling up at him with pure bliss. Dante’s got a big, goofy grin on his face as he holds her close, pressing their foreheads together.

“I’d _love_ to be a thing with you, Dante.”

He feels an overwhelming _wave_ of relief come over him. He practically scoops Featherine up into his arms, swinging her in a full circle as she giggles and clutches onto him with all her might.

They’re both smiling, basking in each other’s presence. Violet meets an icy blue, nothing but pure admiration in each as they gaze at each other, before Dante finally makes his move, holding her tight while he tilts his head down and presses his lips against hers.

She’s a blushing mess, but she returns the kiss with enthusiasm, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly.

It’s amazing – Featherine can hardly believe that she got _so_ lucky. Dante was flirty from the getgo, sure, but he never once faltered. He was so kind to her, he showed her respect and provided her with a comfortable environment. She didn’t understand it – she didn’t understand why he seemed to fall so hard for her, but she’d be lying to herself if she said she didn’t fall twice as hard.

They had a long way to go, but this was a promising beginning.

Dante pulls back, setting Featherine back on her feet. She’s smiling up at him, lifting her chin as he leans his head down, resting his forehead against hers.

“Think your father approves of me?” She teases, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Ah – I think he’s saying _finally_.”

* * *

 

When they arrive home, the place is empty – and _god_ is Dante grateful. They’ve been out for a few hours, he can only imagine that everyone got bored while they were out, since Dante’s always the life of the party and all. 

Featherine’s got her arm hooked around his as they step into the dark office. He’s ready to turn the lights on when she tugs him in the opposite direction. Red lips twist into a grin as she presses herself into him, eyes suggesting an ulterior motive.

“Why don’t we just head up to bed, yeah?”

She’s got a pull on him, though he’s frozen still. It’s not like he didn’t want this to happen – he wanted to show her how much she meant to him. There was no better way for him to communicate this – he needed to show her through physical affection. But god _damn_ was he still caught off guard. He wasn’t anticipating _her_ to initiate anything, but Featherine was simply full of surprises.

He blinks and he’s already pushing the door to his bedroom open, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. He blinks and their lips are pressed together, lust channeling through their kiss. He’s shrugging his coat off, tossing it to the floor, his own hands working at her blouse, attempting to free her body of it’s confines.

She pulls away to breathe, hands lingering on his chest, fingertips playing with the buckles on his shirt. She’s full of determination, she doesn’t even hesitate to unfasten them. Dante’s _so_ grateful that she’s taking so much initiative – it’s so goddamn _sexy_.

Featherine pushes him onto the bed, and he can’t help but laugh that they’re face to face now that he’s sitting. She shuts him up with another kiss, prying his shirt open _finally_ , allowing Dante to get himself out of it – adding yet another article of clothing to the pile on the floor.

She’s still wearing too much, he thinks. She’s got a halter top underneath her blouse, and his hands skillfully untie the ribbon behind her neck, allowing it to drop down. Lace peaks from underneath the white fabric, it’s like unwrapping a gift. She pulls back to practically tear her top over her head. Her breasts bounce as she lifts her arms, her face turns red once she notices his gaze.

It wasn’t like she dressed modestly – she always liked to show off her skin, but in the cold weather it was hard. Dante’s acting like it’s the first time he’s seeing her in her choice of undergarments, it’s embarrassing.

Before she can push him back onto the bed, his fingers hook into the soft fabric of her maxi skirt, she maneuvers her hips as he tugs them down, dropping it at her feet.

He’s almost got her, but he’s admiring the hard work she put into making herself appear _goddess_ like.

She’s adorned in all white, as usual. Her bra, decorated with numerous pink jewels makes her dark skin absolutely _glow_ with radiance.

He reaches behind her back, unclasping it without difficulty. She’s unbuckling his belt, so impatient.

Featherine freezes once her breasts bounce free, allowing her bra to slide off, dropping onto the floor, next to Dante’s pile of clothing. She averts her gaze, looking towards the floor. He’s afraid he moved too fast – he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable – damnit, he can’t screw this up.

He cups her chin in his hands, frowning as he tries to read her expression. She’s blushing a deep red, biting her lip – she can’t get herself to look at him.

“Featherine. We don’t have to keep going if you don’t want – I understand if – “

“I want to.” Her voice is small, “I-I’m sorry. I’m usually so confident but…”

Dante pulls her onto his lap, pressing gentle kisses to the crane of her neck. He’s stroking her back, nuzzling his face into her soft skin.

“We’ll go slow.”

She nods her head, hesitantly wrapping her arms around his neck.

“It’s just – been a while since anybody’s seen me… like this…”

He pulls away, meeting her gaze, refusing to break it. He pushes her hair behind her ear, furrowing his eyebrows as he admires her – violet eyes seem to be shimmering with insecurity.

“You’re beautiful.”

Her eyes widen.

He lifts her, guiding her to a new position. She’s covering her mouth with her hand as she’s laid back against his pillows. Dante’s leaning over her, pushing her hair out of her face.

“Dante – “

She holds back a gasp as he kisses her neck, gently making his way to her collarbone. She can hardly breathe as he works his way down. Featherine can feel his hands traveling up her torso, fingertips gliding against her skin – she’s ticklish around her midriff, but he doesn’t press forward.

He makes a pleased sound when she begins combing her fingers through his hair, guiding him towards the places that feel good. He’s not lingering on any one spot for too long, but the places he’s going feel _incredible_.

Dante pulls back, a soft smile on his lips as he admires the look of bliss on Featherine’s face. His only goal is to make her feel good – he could care less about himself for tonight.

“Everything about you.” He says, “There’s not one thing that isn’t beautiful, Featherine. You’re perfect.”

She doesn’t hesitate to pull him in, pressing their lips together once more. She’s got her arms wrapped around him tightly, feeling his weight on top of her – but she doesn’t mind. She needs it right now, his warmth is electrifying. He nibbles on her lower lip, gently asking for permission – relieved when she obliges.

She finds her hands traveling downward, removing the belt she had attempted to unbuckle earlier, tossing it aside. She’s got her zest back – he can feel her smiling as their mouths take turns leading the kiss. He’s leaving his pants for last – once they get that far there’s no turning back. For now, his hands glide against her stomach, fingertips searching for something he’s had his eye on for a while.

Featherine _moans_ when he cups her breast, rolling it gently with his palm. He’s careful with the way he touches her, his thumb grazing against her nipple, sending shivers up her spine. Dante kisses at her neck, unable to hold back a chuckle as she plays with his hair, he’d never admit it, but it feels good. It always does.

He pulls back, for what he deduces is the final time, searching her eyes for permission. He sees her hand idly traveling to her thighs, fingers caressing the sensitive skin in between. All she’s got on are her laced, white panties – he almost doesn’t want to take them off, but _god_ does he want what’s underneath.

His lips twitch when she hooks her thumb on her underwear, tugging it ever so slightly down her hips. That’s all he needed to advance, his hand brushing against hers as he ran his fingers against the silky fabric in between her legs. He presses his thumb against her, feeling a lovely moisture seeping through it. It’d be a shame to ruin the undergarments she’s put so much thought into – but he can’t help but lean forward, pressing gentle kisses above her panty line, earning a giggle from his partner.

He’s got two fingers rubbing against the slit between her legs, teasing her through his touches. She’s trying to pull her lingerie down further, but the next thing she knows he’s got his mouth pressed against her core, sucking her through her panties – she doesn’t understand it, but _it feels good_ , and she lets out a moan, though she had been holding that one back.

“So cruel…” She gasps, running her hand through her bangs, “I hate that you’re having all the fun.”

He can’t help but laugh, pulling away in order to tear the fabric off, tossing it aside. She throws her head back in relief, but now he can see her in all of her glory.

“You’re a work of art. I can’t help myself.” He smirks. He goes in for a bit more teasing, tongue circling around her clit, pleased with the way she tastes as he explores her with his mouth. He can feel her thighs shaking, hearing how her breathing speeds up every time he manages to hit a spot that feels particularly great. It’s music to his ears.

She’s mumbling his name under her breath, thinking that he doesn’t notice, but it just drives him a little more crazy. He’s been hard for a while, but he’s reaching a point where it’s hard to keep himself confined. Every sound she makes just entices him even more. He’s gotta move on – besides, it would be no fun if she _came_ from only a little teasing. The real show hasn’t even started.

She pushes herself up when he pulls back, hands shakily attempting to unbutton himself, feeling delicate fingers push him out of the way. _God,_ she’s an _angel_.

Their lips crash together once more, only this time, Featherine’s got his future in her hands. She practically tears his pants open, helping him out of them, fingertips hesitating once she gets a quick glance at what she’s about to deal with.

“I figured.”

Dante practically _cackles_ at Featherine’s comment, tugging her onto his lap. Her bare bottom gently _nudges_ against his hard on, and he’s already hissing out of pleasure.

“Yeah, well. S’harmless in _this_ form.”

She grins, pushing her hips into his once more, chuckling as he tilts his head back. She lets her hand drop to his crotch, palm kneading him through his briefs. It feels unbearable and oh so tight, but she’s got a technique going on. Featherine takes a bit more initiative, kissing his neck, nibbling on his flesh – he’s really damn sensitive there, how did she _know_.

He grinds his hips into her touch, loving the way she’s touching him through the fabric – he deserves the teasing after what he did to her.

“C’mon princess, I’ll make it up to you.” He grits his teeth, fingers gripping tightly at her bottom, she giggles as he squeezes her ass, giving his crotch a good rub as payback.

She _finally_ lets him get his erection out of his briefs, breathing out as he finally feels free. Featherine’s resting her head against the nook of his neck, seemingly bracing herself for what’s to come.

Dante’s _big_. Not something he brags about, but he knows that sex with him can get a bit painful. Especially given how tiny Featherine was, he didn’t want to force her into anything she wasn’t willing to do. He was going to do this right.

She feels him maneuver slightly off the bed, though she’s still clinging onto him. He’s digging into his pants pocket, pulling out a condom, and a small packet of lube. Dante lays her down against the mattress as he rolls the condom on, eyes focused on her as she watches, biting her lip with anticipation.

He coats two fingers in lubricant before crawling over her, giving her a gentle kiss, his hand hovering against her core, gently pushing past her labia, earning a gasp from the tiny blonde.

She’s _tight_ , but he can feel her throbbing from the inside, his hand already covered in her warmth. He feels her hand wrap around his dick, pumping her fist in slow, teasing motions. Dante returns the favor, plunging his fingers inside, gently rubbing against the spot he _knows_ will make her feel good. She’s responding the way he was hoping she would, soft moans escaping her lips, eyes shut tightly, face full of bliss.

He continues his pace, working to relax her muscles a bit, massaging her g-spot thoroughly, though not enough to make her cum – not yet.

He’s finding it hard to control himself, though, with her delicate fingers jerking him off so carefully. He doesn’t even care that he’s got the condom on, it still feels just as good as if it were raw.

Dante can’t help but kiss her again, a shaky breath leaving his lips as she lets go. He pulls out at practically the same time – they lock eyes, knowing they’ve reached their decision.

He combs her hair from her face, eyes drifting closed as he nestles his hips in between hers, feeling her thick thighs wrap around his waist, pressing his cock in between her legs. Her wetness is driving him _nuts_ – he wants nothing more than to be inside of her. He’s sure she feels the same.

“If it hurts, tell me.” He mumbles, kissing at her jawline. “If you want to stop, just say the word.”

“How thoughtful.” She hums, “Let’s do this, yeah?”

Dante grins before nuzzling his nose against hers, hands lifting her hips ever so slightly, pressing the tip of his cock against her entrance, _slowly_ , _carefully_ , he pushes inside of her.

The initial feeling stings a bit, it feels foreign once he’s inside, but her muscles seem to react positively, she waits until he pushes into the hilt, observing his face as he gets himself trapped in her heat.

“Y-You gotta move. It’ll hurt until you do.” She informs him, “ _God_ you’re big.”

He laughs, holding himself up over her, feeling her quiver around him. He presses an apologetic kiss to her lips, before he starts maneuvering his hips. She’s got the position down, stat, her thighs holding him in place. He usually didn’t like resorting to _missionary_ when getting down and dirty, but for a first time, it felt right. He got to see her beautiful face, having access to all of her wonderful features.

There was just something about the way she clung onto him that was so damn _romantic_.

Dante buries his face in the nook of her neck as he rocks his hips into hers, the sensation is _fantastic._ She’s tight, and he can tell she’s still feeling discomfort, but as he moves, he can feel her relax. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous about it, too – but he just wanted to make her feel good.

Featherine gasps – features scrunching up as he picks up the pace. She’s moving her hips with his now, helping him angle his way to places that made her tick. He wasn’t sure if her soft noise was out of pain or pleasure, but then she starts to _moan_.

It’s music to his ears.

Dante grins, pressing gentle kisses below Featherine’s ear, nibbling gently on her soft skin, surely enough to leave bruises in the morning.

She’s holding onto him tightly, her body rocking with every thrust he makes. He’s hitting all the right spots, moving with a rhythm that made it hard for her to get her thoughts together. Her muscles are _tight_ around him, and she feels a warmth building inside of her. After all of the teasing he managed tonight, she knew that he was going to get the most out of her – but god, it hardly felt like he was trying. It was like he was just a goddamn _expert_ at this – she’s already seeing stars and it only feels like it’s just begun.

“D-Dante…” She’s burying her face in his hair, eyes closed as he slows his speed, teasingly slipping out of her, feeling how she immediately tried to push her hips back into his. His hand travels to her breast, fondling her in slow, gentle motions. Featherine’s breathing becomes uneven, her back arching as her body writhes with pleasure.

He’s keeping his cool and it’s so _infuriating_. She opens her eyes, using a single hand to turn his head – she wants to see his expression.

Dante’s biting his lip once they lock eyes, his gaze is soft, and he’s breathing just as erratically as she is. He can’t help himself, kissing her with a new kind of passion, like he _needs_ her. He tugs on her lower lip, pleased when she lets out a soft moan after he picks up his pace.

“S’good?” He practically mumbles, “So beautiful…”

Featherine lets out a cry as he lifts her hips even more, breaking away to pull her up and onto his lap. She cups his face in her hands, practically moaning against his lips. He’s got his hands on her ass, supporting her as she rotates her hips, feeling his dick hit even deeper inside of her. She’s so close – she’s not gonna last much longer.

He assists her as she bounces on his lap, holding her in place. She’s not at any crazy pace, keeping it nice and steady, but _god_ it’s nearly torture, she feels so damn good. Dante’s biting his lip as he feels his groin tighten, lifting his hips to meet hers.

“I-I’m so close…” She exhales, pressing her forehead against his. “I need you – hah!”

Featherine clenches onto him with all of her might, gritting her teeth as he takes control once more, pumping into her at a _dangerously_ fast pace. She can hardly see straight, the feeling is overwhelming with how he manages to thrust to the hilt each and every time. She’s got her chest pressed against his, leaving no space in between the two – but it feels better that way. She’s getting all of him at once.

They go in for another kiss, Featherine taking control. She’s holding on with all of her might, grinding her hips into his as she feels herself faltering – she’s trying to make it last, but her body wants to give in so badly. He’s so strong, following her lead without falling behind once. He had incredible self control, she was almost jealous of it.

She’s moaning against him, eyes squeezed tight as she fights off the urge to cum – she can’t, not just yet. She wants to make him lose control – she has to find what makes him tick.

“Ah – _e-eres fabuloso_ – _te deseo_!”

Dante falters in his thrust, holding onto Featherine tightly as she starts switching between languages. He furrows his eyebrows, trying to find his rhythm again but he’s caught so off guard – and not in a bad way.

“Dante… _por favor_ …”

“Agh – shit.” He hisses through his teeth, his eyes rolling back as her words seem to go _directly_ to his cock.

She’s whimpering, calling out his name, her accent is thick. This isn’t what he was anticipating at all, but holy _hell_ is it sending him on a trip he’s never been on before.

“ _I-I’m cumming! Dante_!”

She buries her face in his neck, her body rocking violently with his thrusts – he can’t _see_ straight, he’s so tight – all he wants to do is let go.

“C’mon princess – I’ve got ya.” He breathes into her hair, rocking steadily into her.

Featherine inhales sharply, fingernails digging into his back as she _finally_ finds her release – she can’t hold herself back anymore. Her body jolts with pleasure, her breathing erratic as her pussy throbs with each wave of orgasm she endures. She moans into his collarbone, thighs quivering as she finally comes down from her high. He hasn’t quit, though, slowing his pace as he thrusts into her, gritting his teeth as he let’s go.

He grasps onto her tightly as he cums, hissing her name under his breath as he keeps his hips still, spilling into the condom he so diligently prepared for the event. He grits his teeth, nuzzling his face in her hair, inhaling the sweet scent of strawberry shampoo, he rides out the remainder of his orgasm – following her lead as she pulls him back onto the mattress, though he tries his best to keep his weight off of her.

The two lay still afterward, catching their breath while they come down from their high. He pulls out of Featherine, removing the condom and effortlessly tossing it into the trash by his bedroom door. She laughs, humored by his immaculate attempt at cleaning up shop, and he can’t help but feel pretty damn good about himself.

Dante plops back against the pillows, watching as Featherine crawls on top of him, gently resting her head above his collarbone, tucked neatly underneath his chin.

“I don’t understand a lick of Spanish.” He breaks the silence, stroking her hair as she nuzzles into him. “But _god_ , that was hot.”

Featherine giggles, pressing a kiss to his jawline.

“Sorry, _cariño_. I can’t help it sometimes.”

“Uggghh – stop that.” He whines. He holds her real close, messying up her hair in a playful manner. He stares up at the ceiling while she adjusts herself, pressing herself up against him, absorbing his warmth.

“Featherine.” Dante speaks quietly, “I wanna be the one for you. I wanna keep you safe.”

He wants to protect her – he wants her to become a constant in his life. She came in from nowhere and stole his cold half demon heart. Her smile brightens up his day, he looks forward to spending time with her. They may not know too much about each other, still, it’s been too short of time, but he still feels like he’s known her his whole life.

God, and he _hated_ rushing into things – that was where things went sour with Lady – but he can tell that Featherine’s got the same motive he does. Things can only get better with her.

“You’re what I’ve been missing.”

She smiles against him, letting her eyes drift closed as she finds her body relaxing. The sound of his heart pounding lulls her to sleep, she’s out before she knows it.

“Sleep tight, princess.”


	6. Mission 06

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm having a stupidly great time writing this fic so i appreciate any & all feedback i've been getting! even though this fic is self indulgent as hell. things are finally Happening so i hope you're ready for the ride!
> 
> as a side note: ive made a fanmix for this fic! http://8tracks.com/pepsipink/night-ride 
> 
> ive got loads planned for dante & featherine too ugh im livin
> 
> anyway - enjoooy!

Never in his life did Dante feel like he could wake up, jump out of bed and perform an entire musical number about how blissfully in love he was with the girl of his dreams. The second he opened his eyes and saw Featherine tucked neatly to his side, he felt ready to take off into orbit.

_God, she’s so cute._

 After last night, he thinks that they deserve to stay in bed a bit longer. Nero’s got keys – if he really wants to barge in, he can. But he’s not moving until he feels like it.

 They’re both still naked underneath the blankets, too. Her skin is so soft to his touch. She takes such good care of herself, her dark skin is positively radiant – she resembles a peaceful spring morning, a dewy complexion reflecting off her cheekbones. He’s surprised she’s not the first one awake, though he can’t even imagine what her thoughts about him would be.

 Like, he drools in his sleep, and snores probably. He’s clingy, and his rather large stature can’t possibly be comfortable to sleep with. Yet Featherine is laying halfway on top of him as if he’s the softest pillow in the entire goddamned world. Maybe she’s just a heavy sleeper – but there was no sleeper heavier than Dante.

 He tests his theory by tugging her a bit closer, pressing soft kisses to the top of her head. She responds by burying her head further against his chest, a gentle sound escaping her lips. He practically loses it, wrapping both arms around her small body. She’s too precious – too cute; he doesn't want to let her go.

  _Crrrasssh!_

 Dante perks his head up as a peculiar and _loud_ sound comes from his office. He’s hoping it’s just a bird crashing into his window or some shit, but something smells a bit off.

 Perfect morning – ruined.

 He gives one last kiss to Featherine before he gently lays her back against the mattress, but she stirs. He grabs a pair of sweats off his floor, throwing them on so he doesn’t wander downstairs _naked_. Featherine’s rubbing her eyes with her arm, shielding herself from the light peaking through the windows – it’s too bright.

 He smiles at her, sheepishly so.

 "Wasn’t tryin’ to wake ya. You looked real peaceful.”

 She giggles, a tired tone to her voice.

 “How could I possibly stay sleeping when my pillow leaves the bed?” Featherine yawns, sitting up, though clutching onto the blanket to keep herself covered. “There was a crash downstairs, no?”

 Dante throws a shirt over his head, maintaining the silence for a few moments in order to listen in for any more strange noises. The smell hasn’t changed either, it’s nobody he recognizes. He turns back to his girlfriend, running a hand through his messied hair.

 “Somethin’ feels off. I’m gonna go and check it out.”

 “Gimmie five minutes, I’ll go with you.” Featherine scans the room for any loose articles of clothing sprawled across the floor. “I just… don’t want to go down there like _this_ , you know?”

 "It might be dangerous.” His voice is blunt, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

 “ _Cariño_. I’ll go with you. No questions.”

 “Damn, well.” Dante chuckles, tossing her one of his own shirts from atop his dresser. “If you really insist.” 

* * *

It’s quiet in his office, but something _stinks_. It’s driving him nuts – he can’t find the source. It’s _in_ the room, he knows it is, but it refuses to show its face. Featherine’s practically tearing up his desk, his couch, his _bar_ searching for whatever it could possibly be.

 “And you’re _sure_ it’s not outside?”

 “Positive.” He folds his arms over his chest, watching as Featherine starts rummaging through his closet, stored with the multiple devil arms he’d acquired over the years. “Babe, I appreciate the help, but I don’t want you to get too close to whatever’s watchin’ us.”

 She turns back towards him, shutting the doors to the small cabinet cautiously. She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out – her eyes widen instead, backing up slowly against the wall.

 “It’s behind me, huh.”

 “Dante – “

 Before she can finish her sentence, Dante grabs the creature by it’s neck, slamming on the floor in front of him. It’s a large, insect looking demon, practically as tall as he is. Bugs always seemed to come out of literally _nowhere_ , small or not. This was certainly a great start to the morning.

 “Babe – grab one of those weapons from the closet. I don’t care which one.”

 Featherine doesn’t even hesitate as she rips those doors back open, snatching the first weapon she finds. She tosses it towards him before scrambling towards the couch, standing on top of it – as if it would keep the six foot tall insectoid demon from being able to reach her.

  _Cerberus_.

 “I hear dogs are pretty good at handling pests, yeah?” Dante wails on the damn thing with his devil arm, gritting his teeth as it makes a mess on his floor. It’s dead in mere seconds, fading out of his sight before either him or Featherine can blink.

 “For someone with an affinity for nature, never thought you’d be scared of a little centipede.”

 Featherine rolls her eyes, “Those things aren’t exactly friendly – big or small.” She scans the floor before cautiously stepping down, somewhat amazed that the demon managed to disappear into thin air.

 “I don’t like ‘em either.”

 He feels better now, the smell is gone, the demon is dead. All he wants to do is have some goddamn coffee with his sweetheart. _Devil May Cry_ is closed for today – they needed a day off, and as much as he adores his friends and family, he wants Featherine to himself today. That’s just the kinda mood he’s in.

He sets Cerberus down, reaching out for Featherine’s arm, gently pulling her against his chest. She’s eager to wrap her arms around his waist, pressing herself against him with a tired smile on her face. Dante takes a deep breath, swinging their bodies around so they both crash on the couch, with her landing comfortably on top of his lap. 

“Chose a good weapon – Cerberus got me out of a lotta shit.” 

She laughs, “I didn’t realize you had pets, Dante.”

 “Shh – not a pet. He’ll start misbehavin’ if you call him that.” He flashes a grin, seeing his devil arm give a threatening glow from across the room. “He’s probably thrilled though – all my other _friends_ get really jealous since I pay the most attention to good ol’ Rebellion.”

 “Yeah, you love that sword, don’t you?”

 “Gift from dad. It’s only the very best.”

 She smiles at him, tiredly nuzzling her face into the fabric of his shirt. He doesn’t mind lazing around the couch, the coffee can wait for now. The only reason they got out of bed was because of the noisiness after all.

But peace and quiet can only last for so long.

 His front door practically gets blown up, catching the both of them off guard. Being tired really didn’t do _anything_ good for his reflexes, he sits dumbstruck – completely confused by what just happened.

 He lifts Featherine off his lap, she’s still stunned by the sudden explosion, staring wide eyed at the door that was now gaping open.

 “There are more of them.” She concludes.

 Dante’s already there, gripping Cerberus in hand, waiting for the creature to show it’s ugly face in his damn home. He’s _not_ expecting 50 of them to come charging through his front door but that’s exactly what happens and _god_ is it a terrible sight to behold.

 Featherine shrieks, understandably so, practically throwing herself against the wall. Dante had _never_ had a bug infestation _this_ bad, so he’s a little flustered. It was weird whenever he had deal with creatures that resembled things that came out of the human realm. An ugly, slimey, frog looking demon wouldn’t bother him but _god forbid_ it looks anything like a house centipede and he’s thrown off course.

 He’s frozen for a split second, but he hears Featherine call out his name. He turns to her, seeing as she’s pressed up against the wall, but this time, she’s got vines sprouting from her wrists, and they’re holding back the creatures pretty thoroughly.

 Her vines aren’t too strong, as they start tearing as soon as the demons make any sort of resistance, but she’s staying strong, gritting her teeth as she tightens her hold on them.

 “I’ll hold them back – just kill them!” She shouts, knuckles turning white as she does her best to keep them from attacking either of them.

 She’s amazing.

 Dante’s grinning ear to ear as he takes them out one by one, tearing through them with his devil arm, ensuring their demise. The numbers dwindle, and Featherine releases her grip on them as they become easier to manage.

 Dante’s not smiling because he’s having fun, but because the woman of his dreams is on another level. She’s so fucking _cute_ the way she steps in to help him, cheering him on from the sidelines. She’s smiling too, having fun as she sprouts vine after vine, binding the creatures back with her adorable fucking flower power. This was, without a doubt, the person he wanted to be with until the day he died.

 He’s in bliss as he prepares to take out the last one, though he’s caught off guard when Featherine decapitates it by pulling her vines as tight as she possibly can, pleased with the result, watching it’s head roll away, only to disintegrate moments later.

Dante takes a deep breath, dropping Cerberus to the floor as he collects himself. Hopefully that was the last of those creatures – fighting without at least _one_ cup of coffee was pure torture.

 He turns back to his partner in crime, chuckling as he meets her sheepish smile.

 “You did great there, sweetheart.”

 “Yes she did.”

 Dante and Featherine practically whip their heads around at the new and unfamiliar voice. They couldn’t catch a goddamned break today.

 A young man _casually_ strolls into Dante’s office, like he owns the damn place. He’s got a weird scent, human, contaminated by something. Almost immediately Dante’s gaze lands on the stranger’s hands – claws, akin to Nero’s devil bringer.

 “Is knocking just… out of style or something?” Dante rolls his eyes, placing Cerberus to the side. He’s got a good idea of what this guy wants, and if Dante doesn’t want to see this jackass again, he’s going to have to get serious.

 The young man spreads his wings, previously hidden within his tanktop. They’re insect-like, and now that he’s come closer, he can clearly see that his _claws_ resemble the limbs that the centipede like demons had. It makes sense now.

 “The door was wide open – my bad for _assuming_ it was alright to come in.”

 Dante snatches Rebellion off his wall, grabbing onto Ebony and Ivory as he approaches the stranger.

 He’s just as tall as Dante is, sporting red hair in an undercut swept to the side. His skin is dark, much darker than Featherine’s, and he’s got this aura glowing about him. It’s unstable, and Dante can’t pinpoint what it could possibly be from.

 He’s human, but he’s been toyed with – he feels like every black magic enthusiast he’s ever met.

 “Dante… this isn’t a good idea…” Featherine bites her lip, standing far from the two of them. She’s keeping her distance – she doesn’t know if the young man is dangerous.

 “We’re just gonna have a chat, babe. Though, it’d be nice if we could have that chat outside. My building’s been through a lot – I can’t afford any remodeling… yet.”

 “I respect that.” The mysterious man turns his back towards the two, “I’m not here to fight, though. I’m simply… searching for someone. A young girl, about fourteen. I figured she might be here – since she’s so obsessed with finding you two, after all.”

 “Dante…”

 “Nobody’s been here. You’re wasting your time.”

 Dante follows behind the young man, Featherine only a few steps back. The stranger stands in the middle of the street, empty – there’s nobody around. He’s got a blade strapped to his belt, reaching for it slowly.

 “I heard that your relative _kidnapped_ her the other day. How awful – she’s been through a lot. That’s really no way to treat a troubled child.”

 “She attacked him.” Featherine narrows her eyes, standing in the doorway. She’s got her hands balled into fists, “Though I’m sure you’re not looking to rescue her, are you? You’re going to take her back to your headquarters and brainwash her more.”

 “Well…” He smirks, “She’s very temperamental. If we don’t restrain her, who _knows_ what awful things she can bring upon us. We’re not looking to let her get away – not like you did, _Featherine_.”

 Her name barely leaves his mouth by the time she’s got her vines around his neck. They’re breaking through his skin, thorns drawing blood from his throat. She’s gritting her teeth, one move and she can pierce his jugular, she’s not holding back this time.

 “You _are_ one of them.”

 “Just following orders, _chica_.”

 She cries out, tugging him towards her, sending him stumbling forward, scraping across the concrete.

 Featherine was a peaceful woman. She was composed, relaxed – raising her voice wasn’t something that she did. But fifteen years of silence could only go so far. She hadn’t met with the people who put her through the torture she suffered as a child, she simply couldn’t control herself.

 She wasn’t violent, no, but she was angry, and Dante couldn’t blame her for lashing out like this. She deserves to have this fight, but she’s clouded by her emotions, it’d be dangerous for him _not_ to step in.

 She slams his head down with her heel, leaning in and grabbing a fistful of his red hair, only to push him down into the pavement again.

  _“Usted está cagado!_ ” She grits her teeth, “ _Criatura repugnante_!”

 “Yeah, well – you and your boyfriend aren’t much better.” He sputters, “You _monstruos_.”

 “Dude, the more you talk, the more your face is gonna get messed up.”

 The man laughs, pushing Featherine off of him using his wings. She’s thrown off, stumbling backwards, though Dante catches her before she can hit the ground. He meets her pained gaze, her eyes glistening with tears – he makes his resolve.

 He sets his lover down, looking over to their opponent. He needs answers, and that’s what he’s going to get.

 “You have a name, man?” He reaches for Rebellion, holding it out as he readies himself for a fight, watching the young man wield his own weapon in a rather peculiar way.

 That shit is a goddamn _gunblade_.

 “You gotta tell me where you got that weapon too, would save me so much trouble.”

The redhead rolls his eyes, cocking his _gunblade_ as he aims it straight for Dante’s forehead. Poor guy probably doesn’t realize that Dante can’t really die.

 "Robin. And I custom designed it myself, so you’re shit out of luck.”

 “Fair enough.”

 Robin pulls the trigger without hesitation, but all Dante has to do is duck his head to avoid it. He looks to Featherine, giving her a nod, watching as she takes cover back in his office.

 It’s time to get this punk out of here.

 With Rebellion in hand, Dante keeps a deep focus on his enemy, reloading his damn gunblade. (He’s never going to stop being jealous of it.) He prepares his drive, swinging his claymore forward at a speed breaking the fucking sound barrier. Robin doesn’t even get a chance to see what’s flying his way – he’s knocked several feet backwards before he knows it.

 Easy-peasy.

 He charges forward, holding his blade steady, watching as Robin squirms backwards, meeting a dead end in a corner. Dante _wails_ the blade down, earning a pained shout from the human. It lands mere inches away from his head, Robin is gasping for air, eyes opening slowly to find that he’s still relatively unharmed.

 “I thought you’d be more of a challenge, but _damn_ you’re a nervous wreck.” Dante places his foot on the young man’s chest, holding him down. “That weapon of yours deserves a better owner.”

 His mouth is dry, his gunblade drops from his grip.

 “I _said_ I wasn’t here to fight.” Robin grits his teeth, “We were going to chat, no?”

 “Well, we weren’t going to fight, but you had to open your goddamn big mouth. If you’re gonna talk big, you could at least be a _little_ more durable.”

 Green eyes narrow as he spots Featherine approaching slowly from behind Dante, Robin clenches his fists, looking up towards the demon hunter.

 “You and _chica_ here want answers, right?”

 Featherine stands beside her lover, hand gripping at the hem of his shirt, she’s using her abilities again, vines wrapped around Robin’s wrists, binding him to the ground, thorns digging deep into his skin.

 “What are you after?” Dante leans forward, an intimidating glare on his face.

 Robin winces as the thorns begin to draw blood, he’s too weak to break free, he needs to save his strength for his journey back to his headquarters.

 “We’re going to eradicate the planet of all demon life. It’s really not that difficult. Featherine’s kind are our easiest targets – we just got a bit unlucky when she decided to hook up with _you_.”

 Dante can’t help but roll his eyes. This is a plot he’s heard too many times before, it’s getting old.

 “Every damn freakshow on this planet thinks they can _purify humanity_ , or whatever. Don’t you guys do anything else? See a movie? Mind your own business?”

 “We’re going to set up a false alarm, announce a war between weaker, demon-human hybrids and pit them against those from the Hell realm itself.”

 Featherine bites her lip, looking to Dante, her lips pursed together.

 “But I’m not – “

 Robin laughs at Featherine’s quiet rebuttal, shaking his head disapprovingly.

 “You’ve been reading the wrong books, _chica_. I guess that’s what happens when your family _dies_ before they can share their secrets with you.”

 Dante crushes Robin’s chest with his heel, slamming down the blunt end of Rebellion onto his head, nearly knocking him unconscious.

 “Featherine. Let’s go back inside.” Dante steps back, gently taking Featherine by the hand, pulling her towards him despite her blank expression.

 “She thinks she’s something out of a fairy tale. How cute.”

 Dante whips his head around, eyes glowing red as he steps away from the young man, holding Featherine close to his side. Robin’s pushed himself up, donning his wings as he struggles to fly off, blood streaming down his mouth.

 This had to end, and it had to end _soon_. 

* * *

Nero bursts through the door, his arm’s glowing a powerful shade of blue. He looks messy as hell, like he grabbed his clothing and shot out of the hotel without checking to see if he was presentable. Blue eyes scan the area, looking for the danger his senses were telling him about, but all he sees is a rather exhausted looking Dante sprawled out on his couch, with Featherine on top of him.

 The young devil hunter averts his gaze, stepping back towards the entrance.

 “Um – sorry, I just – I thought I felt something – “

 Dante takes a deep breath, shaking his head as he slowly pushes himself up, taking Featherine with him. She’s got her head buried against his chest, her body is trembling, Nero didn’t notice before.

He wants to ask, but he knows that he shouldn’t.

 “One of those cult members barged right in. You weren’t imagining things.”

 “I-I’m sorry. I would’a been here sooner but… I’m a heavy sleeper, and then I had to get dressed but I didn’t wanna wake Kyrie – “

 “Kid, it’s fine. I can handle myself.”

 Nero looks to the small blonde woman, clutching onto Dante like her life depends on it. He’s rubbing her back in slow, gentle motions, face halfway buried in her messied hair. Nero feels an ache in his chest, watching as she shivers, hearing a small sob leave her lips every few moments.

 “Did… did either of you get hurt? Is everything alright?”

 He feels like he’s being too invasive, but he approaches them slowly. Featherine doesn’t seem to be startled when Nero kneels in front of them, getting a closer look at the two.

 They’re both still in their sleepwear, Nero can’t imagine that their date went badly. The energy he felt wasn’t strong, but it was still prominent enough to wake him.

He knows Dante is staying silent as though to keep Featherine calm, and he respects the hell out of that. Maybe Dante wasn’t as bad at the whole _significant other_ thing as Nero thought.

 “Some punk. He was a human, experimented on. Kinda like what that nasty scientist was doin’ with your people, Nero.” Dante pulls back from Featherine, though only slightly, if only to get a better look at her. Nero still can’t see her face, but Dante gives a half smile, leaning in to press a kiss on her forehead.

 “Anyway, punk starts talkin’, tells us what they’re all about. Starts sayin’ weird shit to Featherine, about her family. He flies away before I can bash his face in.”

 Nero guesses that part isn’t true – Dante backed off to keep Featherine safe. Dante doesn’t _let_ people get away.

 “Triggers her PTSD.”

 That was the answer Nero needed. She seems totally out of it, but Dante seems to know what he’s doing. He’s letting her run her course to recovery. Everything that’s been happening must’ve been incredibly difficult to deal with – one could only handle so much trauma before it weighs down on you.

 She had been so strong during everything so far, but even one more reminder of the suffering she’s endured could’ve sent her over the edge.

 “I think I have an idea, but it’s not gonna be fun.” Dante sighs, “I’m gonna take her upstairs. I gotta get Trish and Lady over, though.”

 “I can call them if you want.” Nero offers, “It’s the least I can do. Just make sure that Featherine is alright.” 

* * *

Dante made sure the room was kept dark while Featherine slept. He had coaxed her to bed for a good while, not having to say all that much, his presence was enough for her.

He knew all too well what she was experiencing, and though he wasn’t a _pro_ at consoling the ones he loved, he knew what had to be done.

He left her his own pillow, allowing her to squeeze onto it while he was out. He had to explain the situation to his team, needed to freely talk about the information Robin brought them without the possibility of getting Featherine upset again. For his plan to work, she was going to have to give them some details. He didn’t want her to explain anything while she was in distress.

Trish and Lady were there in no time, and he needed them to do a quick favor that only Featherine had the answer to.

He’s sitting by her side again, checking on her after a few hours. He’s combing his fingers through her long, blonde hair, watching as she slept peacefully. Her cheeks were stained with her tears, she’s holding onto his pillow as if it’s him.

He feels awful.

She was so frightened, Dante hardly knew what to do. Once they stepped back inside after Robin’s departure, she broke down in tears, crying out in her mother tongue.

Dante didn’t understand what he had to say. _Featherine’s kind_. Was he implying that Featherine was something other than what she thought to be? Something about reading the wrong books, looking in the wrong places. If Featherine _wasn’t_ human like he claimed to be, it would’ve only baffled Dante more – she obviously wasn’t lying about her upbringing, but she certainly wasn’t of _demonic_ lineage.

If _he_ was puzzled by the entire fiasco, he could only imagine that she was going through something _entirely_ different.

He strokes her cheek with the back of his hand, pushing her hair from her face. She’s biting her lip, nails are digging into his pillow. Dante lays beside her, pulling her close, nuzzling his face into her hair. She stirs, eyes fluttering open. She’s tense, Dante can feel it, but once she realizes where she is, and who’s holding her, she relaxes and rolls over, burying her face into his shirt.

“Hey, princess. Feelin’ okay?”

She gives a weak nod, her eyes drifting back closed.

“I’m sorry I didn't stay with you. Nero came to check out the commotion, and I didn’t want you to be stressed out.”

“It’s alright. I’m sorry for getting like that… it doesn’t happen often. I’m – “

“Babe, it’s nothing to apologize for.” He pulls away, gazing at her sleepy features. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“You’re too good to me…” 

Dante cracks a smile, pressing a kiss her forehead. She maneuvers herself closer, violet eyes meeting his gaze – she still looks so melancholy, but she’s strong. She furrows her eyebrows, bringing a hand to Dante’s cheek. 

“I’m going to help you fight them.” 

“You’re already doing a spectacular job, sweetheart.” 

She giggles softly, kissing Dante with a certain gentleness, one that makes his heart melt. 

They were going to defeat her family’s murderers together.

* * *

 “Dante, I mean this in a nice way – but Lady really isn’t cut out for recon. She’s… too loud…”

 Dante keeps his mouth shut the second he sees Lady’s firey glare shoot daggers at Trish. Sure, Trish was fantastic with recon given her ability to stay airborne for more than a few seconds, and her own demon heritage gave her tons of advantages, such as shape shifting and sneaking around.

 Lady, on the other hand, was attached to her _big_ fucking gun and had a tendency to shoot at whatever made her angry. Trish had a point.

  _However_.

 “I know, but Trish, you’re less than spectacular at communicating with people once you get caught.” Dante sits at his desk, leaning forward as he stares at his companion. “And last I recall, you make pretty dumb decisions if anything inconveniences you.”

 “Just because you’re sleeping with me, Trish, doesn’t mean you’ll be out of debt.” Lady hums, kicking her feet onto Dante’s coffee table.

 “ _Humans_.” The blonde scoffs, “Well fine, but if they find us thanks to Kalina Ann’s _firepower_ then you know who to blame.”

 “I can’t go, otherwise I would. They already know about me and Nero, babes. As long as you two stay quiet – there’s no problem, correct?”

 “I guess.” “Yeah…”

 Dante turns to Featherine, sitting on one of his barstools. She’s woken up since Dante went and fetched her for the conversation, but she’s still looking uncomfortable. He feels bad that he’s going to have to have her dig into her memory to help them out, but she insisted that she was willing to tell them anything they needed. Her childhood home was the best lead they had for now.

 “Rine, this is where you come in.”

 She nods, shifting uncomfortably as everyone in the room turns to face her.

 “I wrote down my address for you – I don’t think any GPS would find it. It was destroyed long before any of that technology rolled around.”

 “Any description?” Lady asks, whipping out her smartphone. “Anything will help.”

 Featherine closes her eyes, searching through her memories for a clear picture.

 “It was about two acres. Across the street was a field, it didn’t belong to anybody. On the other side of the field were more suburban homes, closer together. There were only 3 homes on my street.”

 “And it’s on the outskirts of this town, right?”

 “As far as you can get before reaching it’s end.”

Trish peaks over Lady’s shoulder, reading the notes she’s taking down.

“Dante, did the kid who attacked you have any kind of scent? If they’re using _demon_ DNA, then surely I can pick that up once we get close.”

“He smelled artificial. If that makes any sense to you.”

Trish nods, elbowing her girlfriend in the side to get her to take that bit of information down.

“Were there any signs outside your property? You did say you ran a clinic, didn’t you?”

“Vasari family animal clinic.”

Lady and Trish stand up simultaneously, turning towards Dante.

“We’ll give you a call when we find it.” Lady says, grabbing Kalina-Ann from beside the couch. “And we wont get caught, that’s a promise.”

“I can’t thank you two enough.” Featherine offers a smile, “I can only imagine that they’re not too far from my childhood home. I was able to make it into the city on foot after I escaped – take that as you will.”

The female devil hunters both grin, hooking their arms around one another.

“We got this, Featherine, don’t worry.”

Trish chuckles, pulling Lady towards the doorway. “There’s very little that this team can’t accomplish.”

Dante stands from his desk, waving his companions off before he approaches Featherine, wrapping his arms around her with loving intentions. She leans into his touch, turning in her seat as she presses her head to his chest.

“They’re good at what they do. Once they tell us what’s goin’ on, we’ll go and kick their asses, alright?”

“I trust them.” She closes her eyes, “I’m so grateful for you all.” 

* * *

“I can’t believe you said I was too loud.”

“Are you honestly still mad about that? It’s been four hours.”

Lady huffs as the two trek their way through a vacant field, knee deep in weeds and other itchy wildlife. Their motorcycle was parked nearly a mile away – Featherine wasn’t lying when she said her home was in the most desolate part of town.

The street they were looking for was just ahead, and it matched the description that the nymph had given them. Three large houses on three large pieces of land, surrounded by fences, trees, bushes. It looked completely unoccupied, though the final house on the road still had farm animals roaming about. Trish made note of it, she’d make Lady come up with some bullshit story and ask them some questions if it came down to it.

“I’m not loud. I’m very reserved.”

“You tried to blow me up when we first met.”

“How is that me being _loud_?”

Trish rolls her eyes, shaking her head. Out of the two homes remaining, Trish can clearly see the difference. The one with the rather _dead_ plantlife stuck out. The windows were broken in, and half the house looked like it had suffered some major fire damage.

“It’s up there.”

Lady moves her gaze forward, squinting to get a better look. There’s a broken post in front of it.

Without saying another word, they continue forward, slowly approaching the land with extreme caution. Trish approaches the post first, kneeling as she dips her hands into the tall plants, feeling around the ground for any sign that might’ve been attached to it.

“Got it.” Trish holds up the sign not even moments later, looking over at her partner.

“Does it say what Featherine said?”

Her blue eyes carefully look over the text, finding that most of it had been worn away, chipped off, _burnt_. She can’t even make out half of it, but she’s certain it’s what they’ve been looking for.

“The only word on it says _family_. This thing’s taken years of damage, but throw it in your bag. Maybe Featherine will want to keep it.”

She chucks the block of wood at Lady, who catches it without even blinking an eye. The leather clad woman stands up, eyeing the front door to the home hardly 10 feet in front of her. She’s not even sure it’s worth it to go inside, but she thinks they can pick up clues.

Lady’s already ahead of her, pushing the front door open. It has no locks, she’s granted entry without even trying.

“It’s a good thing the door was open. I would’a had to blow it up, and y’know, be _loud_.”

“Oh shut _up_ , sweetheart.”

Lady sticks her tongue out at Trish, halfway through the entrance.

“You love me~”

They enter slowly, footsteps as quiet as they could possibly manage.

Aside from the wreckage, the house looks like any normal home. It’s old fashioned, and obviously suffering from the 15 years of neglect after the incident. It’s dusty, and there’s weeds growing _everywhere_. Chipped furniture adorns the living room, kitchen utensils scattered around the dining table.

It’s an awful, eerie feeling. Trish nor Lady feel comfortable being here, giving each other knowing looks as they venture deeper. Trish picks up blood stains, bullet wounds in the walls, obvious signs of struggle. She can’t fathom why authorities haven’t come in and taken a look at this place, tore it down and attempted to do something else with the land.

“Oh, Jesus…”

Trish turns around at the sound of her partner’s voice, watching as Lady turns over a collection of picture frames. She moves behind her, gaze softening as she lays her eyes on the sight.

Photos of Featherine and her family, surrounded by dozens of animals.

Lady let’s out a shaky sigh, dusting them off with her sleeve.

“We should take these back.”

Trish nods, pursing her lips together. The photos showcase years of Featherine’s life, from her as a child, to what Trish could only assume was months before her family was killed. There was another girl, not too much younger than Featherine, standing to her side in a majority of the photos. They murdered a _child_ , it made her sick.

“She deserves to have these.” Lady frowns, “I know it wont be easy for her to look at… but these memories seem like happy ones. I know I’d do anything to get photos of me and my mother back.”

“Should we call them? Tell them we made it here?”

“…Not yet. We still don’t have any clues.”

Trish gives a look of understanding and continues venturing through the home. It was hard to maneuver through the broken furniture, but the house was otherwise all cleared out. Lady was half expecting to find bodies laying around within the wreckage. There was no attempt to restore the home, no attempt to clean it out. Surely Featherine had sent some sort of authority here after she was taken into custody. She said she inherited everything from her family once she turned of age, but perhaps the house wasn’t part of that deal.

“Lady… do you think that home on the end of the road can give us any input? I mean, this home is abandoned, and the one next door looks like it hasn’t been touched in at least a decade.”

Lady looks to her girlfriend, biting her lip as she thinks.

“Lets scope it out first. Going in head first is a terrible idea.”

* * *

 

They’re both practically winded by the time they make it there. The road itself was like a goddamn mile long, they were just lucky that it wasn’t too warm out. 

The first thing that they notice is that this particular house is _huge_.

The piece of land that it was on was gigantic, two or three times larger than Featherine’s residence. It’s lively, animals look well tended to, garden is lush and producing edible fruits and vegetables.

The only thing is that there’s absolutely nobody outside. But there’s obvious activity going on _inside_ , and it looks like a goddamn party.

“It can’t be this easy, can it?” Trish asks, ducking down to the floor.

The house is modern, adorned with large windows that give quite the view of the interior. When you live on a road completely by yourself, with the nearest suburbs being at least a mile away, there probably wasn’t any _real_ need for privacy.

“We gotta get closer.” Lady narrows her eyes, getting onto all fours. Dante was going to owe her a new goddamn suit after this, she already felt the grass stains forming.

They crawl forward, the view into the home gets clearer the closer they get.

“Oh my god?”

At the sound of Trish’s voice, Lady sits up, squinting in order to get a better look. Her eyes widen at the sight, turning to Trish with a distressed expression.

“I guess it was that easy, huh.”

* * *

 

It’s so goddamn late but Dante can’t sleep. He’s sitting in his office, drinking straight out of a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. Nero is next to him, staring with a concerned expression on his face. It probably wasn’t wise to drink hard liquor in front of his underage nephew, but it was calming his nerves. 

Lady and Trish hadn’t contacted them at _all_ and he was beginning to think that something happened.

He figured they got there around sunset, but it was way past evening now. Featherine was asleep in his room, exhausted from the sheer anxiety she had been experience for a full day, and Kyrie had left hours ago.

Nero didn't have to be here, but he still appreciated his company. The kid looked damn tired, though.

The liquor was getting easier to swallow, at the very least.

“I don't understand how you’re drinking that.”

Dante shifts his gaze to Nero, humored by the teenager’s criticism.

“Do you even drink?”

He shrugs, staring down at the floor.

“Kyrie likes wine at dinner. I can’t say I like it, but that’s… really all I’ve had.”

“That’s it?”

“I’m… underage.”

“You’re so innocent. We can’t possibly be related.”

Nero elbows his uncle in the side, making Dante nearly drop his bottle. He does set it down, however. Drinking because of nerves was a terrible idea. It wasn’t a good night to black out, he couldn’t fathom crawling into bed with his girlfriend only to reek of alcohol.

He wasn’t _rude_.

“You think Kyrie’s gonna be worried if you don’t go back soon? I mean, I’m not keepin’ ya here. If you wanna leave, you can leave.”

“I don’t wanna leave.” Nero shrugs. “If Kyrie gets worried she can text me. She understands that you guys are going through some stuff. If anything happened to Trish or Lady, I wanna go with you and help.”

“I appreciate that, kid.” Dante eyes his own phone, sitting alone on his coffee table. “I’m glad that you and Kyrie are so happy together. Lots of trust going on – I crave that sorta thing.”

The quarter demon leans back into the couch cushion, gaze pointed at Dante. He folds his arms over his chest, taking a deep breath.

“Your date with Featherine went well? I never even asked.”

“Ah, it’s fine. Today’s been a hell frenzy. But yeah, we were in that restaurant practically until they closed. I swear, staff was beggin’ us to get out, but we just had a lot to talk about.”

Nero can’t help but grin, seeing his uncle’s features soften. Dante’s got a hardly noticeable smile on his face, but Nero catches it. He’s glad that Dante is happy.

“What’d you guys talk about?”

“Just stuff, really.” Dante pushes his hair out of his face, looking towards the staircase, as if Featherine would waltz down at any moment and wipe his worries away. “Figured I’d let her know my morals – which I guess is a weird topic to talk about on a date. Kinda told her I’m not lookin’ to fool around. Like she’s my endgame, and – “

“God, you _are_ thinking about marriage.”

“ _Relax_.” Dante’s face turns deep red, furrowing his eyebrows as he avoids eye contact with Nero. “I’ve had a pretty wild life, yunno. Gone through a lot of shit – I can’t keep that up forever. Featherine feels like home.”

“I’m not _judging_ you, Dante. I think Featherine’s great. She’s so nice, and she’s considerate. She makes you happy.”

“Yeah…” He takes a deep breath, “I know it’s movin’ really fast. It’s only been a few months since we’ve met, and I _really_ don’t like rushing into things. We have so much in common, though. It doesn’t feel like it’s been a few months – I feel like I’ve known her my whole life.”

“The fact that you _made_ that connection means that it’s gonna be something good though. And she feels that connection too.”

“That’s what she told me.”

“This is weird – but when you were comforting her, I dunno. I saw how much you cared.”

“Yeah, whoops. Never intended anybody to see _that_ side of me, huh.” Dante cracks a grin, turning his gaze towards the floor. “Next thing you know, I’m tellin’ ya about how bad I wanna just fuckin’ settle down and have a family.”

“ _Shit_ , are you drunk?”

“I’m very honest, when I’m under the influence.”

“Never took you as a family man.”

“Nero, I practically tried adopting you.”

“Almost worked too.”

As if just to save Dante from any further embarrassment, and his damn inability to keep anything a secret while intoxicated, his phone buzzes on his coffee table. He holds his breath as he picks it up, checking the caller ID.

_Lady_.

“Oh, thank Christ.” Dante shows the screen to his nephew, seeing him sigh in relief.

“It’s about goddamn time.”

_“Dante. We’re driving back now – but these people are **fucked** up.” _

Dante grits his teeth, “What happened. Where are they located?”

_“Right down the goddamned street! **Huge** piece of land – at least thirty people in this place.”_

“Down the street?”

“No shit…” Nero inches closer, trying to listen in on the conversation.

_“They’re experimenting on people, though. They’ve got a farm, and I’m pretty sure they’re experimenting on the animals too – splicing them with the humans. God, this is gross_.”

This all sounded fantastic.

_“We took photos. We’ll be there tomorrow morning with everything. They’re so much closer than I would’ve ever thought.”_

“Thanks, Lady.” Dante sighs, “Glad you two are safe. I owe you, big time.”

_“Hey, Dante – don’t mention it._ ”


	7. Mission 07

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaAAAA I'M SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT - I've been workin' on this literally the entire time I haven't been updating, i swear!  
> been very busy with cosplay & work & just a bunch of in between shit that's been goin' on in my life.
> 
> ANYWAY I'm back - I should be back for good.  
> This chapter is more or less loads of exposition but we're halfway through this monster!
> 
> let's rock!

It was hard to watch Featherine lose her cool.

All Dante could do was sit by her side, rub her back soothingly. She’s not someone who cries often, she held her head high, but he knew what she was experiencing. She hadn’t seen these faces in over a decade, forced to flee her home with nothing but the clothes on her back. He really did owe Lady and Trish for this.

She sees her mother, her sister, father and grandmother in these photos. Delicate fingers running over each of their faces, mumbling quietly in Spanish. It was difficult for her to do this, but she deserved to have her memories of her family.

Lady and Trish stand to the side, having only gotten there a few hours prior. They discussed their findings, revealing, much to Featherine’s horror, that these people were her neighbors. They lived in peace, while her family was murdered, their home destroyed. They felt no remorse for their actions, it was terrible.

Featherine buries her face into Dante’s shoulder, sliding the photo frames away.

“Suri was 11. She was the first one they found.”

Dante catches both Lady and Trish wince, turning their faces away from the scene. Featherine had talked about her past to Dante, mostly about the incident, but he didn’t really know much about what her family was like. He was never told her sister’s name, or what their relationship was like. Though he knows from experience what losing a sibling is like, and despite how much he and Vergil butted heads, it still hurt like a bitch when they said their final goodbyes.

Featherine never got that opportunity though.

He wraps his arms around his lover, pulling her close as she wept.

“If you two wanna head out – “

Featherine pulls away at the sound of Dante’s voice, turning to face his companions standing by the doorway.

“Wait – I’m sorry. I – “

“You don’t have to apologize, Rine. What you went through was rough and – “

Lady is cut off by the young woman shaking her head, her features soften as she tries to compose her thoughts.

“I really appreciate that you brought these to me. I can’t thank you enough. I never thought I’d see them again – I’ve never been brave enough to return to my old home.” Her voice is quiet, she’s keeping her head down to hide her tears. “You didn’t have to, but you did – I’m overwhelmed.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Lady offers a smile.

“Yeah, you’re one of us. Get some rest, you two. Gonna need it.”

Trish links her arm around Lady’s, pulling her out the doorway. Dante waves the two off, looking down at Featherine as she calms herself down.

She’s still sniffling, gaze pointed at the picture frames she has face down on the coffee table. She’s leaning into Dante’s touch, silence overcomes the office.

“Your sister’s name was Suri?” He asks after a moment passes, seeing her nod her head in response.

“You two get along?” Dante rests his head on top of hers, “My brother and I were twins – never understood what it was like to live _without_ a sibling.”

“Didn’t you say you were the younger twin?” She relaxes into his touch, averting her gaze from the coffee table. “We got along as well as most siblings do. Fought over catty things, like her stealing my clothes, toys, I’d yell at her for copying me. Took me a while to realize that she only did those things because she idolized me.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“But we were so isolated, yunno. All we had was each other. Mom and dad would never let us stay angry at each other – and I’m grateful for that.”

“You loved your family a lot, yeah?”

“Family was all I knew.” Featherine looks up at Dante. “I would do anything to be surrounded by family again.”

He meets her gaze, pushing her hair from her face.

“Me too.”

* * *

 

It had been three months since Dante and Featherine first met. Three _very_ long months of twists and turns at every corner, and though things had been looking grim, Dante held his head high. Featherine was going to see this through – she deserved a happy ending. 

He gave her as much space as she needed, but he couldn’t just sit there and let her be trapped in her thoughts. She was only quiet when something was troubling her. He didn’t want to invade her privacy, he only moved forward when he knew she wouldn’t be against it.

That was what boyfriends did, right?

He wasn’t any sort of _pro_ at the whole dating game. He was quite bad at it, really – but he hadn’t really been _trying_ up until now.

Dante was out of the scene for a few years – if he _really_ needed to get laid, he didn’t have any sort of problem getting that done, but he was simply used to the idea of being a bachelor until the day he died. Not that it was something he particularly _wanted_ , but it was something he’d come to accept.

He had a bad tendency to compare every relationship he’s been in to his relationship with Lady. A disaster. And a majority of it was his fault, or at the very least, extreme miscommunication. He scared her off by being too clingy, and when it came down to it, they wanted different things.

Though Dante had _no_ idea what he wanted when he was a teenager. He wasn’t consciously aware of what he wanted. He’s still not entirely sure, but he knows that Featherine is on the same wavelength.

His last relationship had ended years ago, because of something he never thought would’ve been a problem: His heritage. She was alright with it at first, but as time went on, she became more and more afraid of him, and what he could be.

Featherine was already caught up, as far as he knew.

Everything could only get better. He had to get the situation under control, he had to let Featherine know that he had it _bad_ for her.

Three months was a long time, but it wasn’t long enough. Not for what he wanted to start with her.

She’s reading on the couch when he comes home from a short, simple mission. It’s not one of her own books, she seems to have finally made it to his _own_ bookshelf – filled with garbage. Comics, graphic novels, stuff Dante read as a teenager to help cope with his upbringing. The protagonists of all the wild stories he read made his life seem a little more mundane. He liked reading about people that were kind of like him, he felt less alone.

Then it clicked.

“That one was my favorite. I’ve read it at least a dozen times.”

Featherine looks up at him, a smile on her face.

“When we first met, and I told you why I read so much mythology – “

“Yeah, it was ‘cause I could sympathize.”

“You’ve got some Shakespeare here too, Dante.”

“I liked to perform as a kid. Kinda. Mom and dad took us to a lot of plays, figured knowing how to act even a little bit would be useful.” Dante plops next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Sorry I wasn’t being honest.”

She can’t help but laugh, placing the comic book on the coffee table so she can get comfortable in his arms.

“I’m a pretentious bastard, yunno. Still interested?”

Featherine places a kiss to his cheek, swinging her legs over his lap.

“Reading crazy stories about people that were extraordinary made you feel more at peace with yourself, no?”

“You got it.”

“Why did it take so long for us to meet?”

Dante pushes her bangs from her face, resting his forehead against hers.

“’Cause we had shit we had to do. You would _not_ have liked me if we met when I was 18.”

“Lady told me you were arrogant and hot headed.” Featherine smiles softly, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I felt that was rather harsh.”

“Nah, completely true. I was all over the goddamned place.”

She gets a kick out of hearing about Dante’s past. He’s not exactly an open book, but he’s trying his best to give her the full scoop. Dante endured a lot of trauma in his youth, but he had so many good memories too. He wished he could just play everything out for her – he wanted Featherine to know everything about him.

“Hey.” He pulls away from her, turning his gaze towards the window. She follows suit, expecting to see something.

“What is it?”

“We should go for a walk. Roam around the city for a bit.”

Featherine turns towards Dante, cocking her head to the side.

“You just got home. Aren’t you tired?”

He gives her a soft kiss, “I got a few more hours in me.”

* * *

 

“Where on Earth are you taking me?” 

They’re deep in the city by now. Featherine didn’t often go exploring in town, as most of her travels lead her elsewhere, but this was much further than she’d ever been. Surely he’s taking her into the sleezy part of Capulet City for a reason. She trusted him, he hadn’t done her wrong so far.

But she’s not thrilled about being lead into a dark, damp alleyway.

Dante’s holding her hand tight, but he’s got his weapons on him. It wasn’t an odd sight, but he more often than not stuffed everything into his empty guitar case.

“You against a little bet?” Dante turns his head towards her, flashing a grin.

The smaller woman raises an eyebrow, letting go of Dante’s hand to fold her arms over her chest.

“If I can kill 50 demons without you stepping in, you owe me a strawberry sundae for when all this shit blows over.”

She laughs, “And if I do step in?”

“Dunno, it’s your call.”

“This doesn’t seem very fair though, does it? I mean – you surpassed your father in terms of your abilities, no?”

“Mmm – we’ll see.” He dumps his case on the floor, opening it in one swift motion as he reaches for Rebellion. “If you step in – I tell you whatever you want to know. No beating around the bush. I will be your open book.”

Featherine adjusts her stance, summoning her vines to wrap around her wrists.

“How could I _possibly_ refuse that opportunity?”

“You’re a risk taker. I’m really into that.”

“Mm.” Featherine cocks an eyebrow, dropping her arms to her sides. “Now – where are you going to get 50 demons?”

Dante’s got a smirk on his lips, holding Rebellion over his shoulder. He steps forward, holding his weapon like a baseball bat, swinging it with unbelievable speed, knocking over garbage cans and crates from the sheer force of it. Featherine doesn’t even have to blink, seeing numerous creatures suddenly come into her line of sight, seemingly coming out of _nowhere_.

“They’ve been followin’ me around all day – thinkin’ I don’t see them n’shit.”

“Did you bring me here to show off, Dante?”

“Of course I did.” He flashes a smile at her, “Somethin’ fun, yunno. Spice things up.”

“There is _never_ a bland moment with you around.” She straightens her back, looking the new creatures up and down.

They look like small, hairless bears with glowing eyes. She can’t even _fathom_ what the hell the idea behind these guys were. Though they were surely a creation from the people that they were after. And as Dante bet before – there _were_ around 50 of them.

_Easy_.

Dante’s already ahead of her, charging towards the animal-like demons with Rebellion held tightly in his grip.

He’s hackin’ through them like it’s nothing. She’s impressed, of course. She’s seen him fight by now, and he was stronger than she could’ve ever imagined. He does all of this with ease, he doesn’t even blink.

But then he does something that she _hasn’t_ seen.

He _transforms_.

She’s positive there’s no need for it; he wasn’t struggling. This was a new level of showing off. The demons keep marching in, and Dante keeps destroying them with ease, she really has no opening to join him.

How unfair.

She can’t quite describe what he looks like. A bit insect like, he looks molten.

His eyes glow red as he turns to face her, a smile on his face. Featherine feels as though he thinks she’s startled, and that he’s smiling to ease her worries, but she’s thinking quite the opposite.

This is _incredible_.

He goes on to wipe out the enemies one by one, none of them seem to last more than a couple of seconds. Dante did this to impress her, and god _damn_ was it working.

“You’re out doing yourself, Dante.” She hums, seeing as the numbers dwindle down. He’s confident, she can see it in his eyes, a certain cockiness to his attitude.

He doesn’t stay in his demon form for long, his enemies are gone before she knows it. When he transforms, he does it effortlessly, like he’s used to it. She bites her lip as she processes all of this – his devil trigger is something out of this world – she’s enchanted.

“Looks like _someone_ owes me an ice cream.”

“You _wish_.”

Dante’s taken aback by her sudden dismissal. Next thing he knows, she’s yanking out one of the demonic creatures from behind him, thorns squeezing its body. He can’t even react before she tears it to shreds, the creature turning into dust and fading away in the blink of an eye.

Featherine smiles, her thorny vines retracting into her wrists. He shrugs his shoulders in defeat, shoving his sword back into its case. Violet eyes follow his every movement, anticipating what he’ll do next.

Much to her surprise, he sits on the floor, back leaning against a brick wall.

“You got me, huh?”

“My open book, yeah?”

He’s quiet for a moment, avoiding her gaze. Finally, he stands, throwing his guitar case over his shoulder. Dante holds his hand out to Featherine, a gentle expression on his face. She finds herself blushing as she takes his hand as offered, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“C’mon. We’re in the shady part of town, but there’s a cute little diner around the corner. Haven’t taken you there yet – I don’t go there too often anymore since I’ve gotten stalked by a few of the regulars, but it’s got the best food in town.”

“Stalked?” She asks, “You really _have_ been through a lot, haven’t you?”

“In comparison to everything else I’ve dealt with – stalking was probably the funniest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Is that so?”

“The waitress had a teen crush on me, and her boyfriend got jealous. No big deal.” He chuckles, “That was over five years ago, though. So – they’ve calmed down by now.”

* * *

 

“Honestly, I shouldn’t even serve you! You disappear for months at a time, and _this_ time, you come back and you have a girlfriend!” Cindy slams two menus on the table. “Wow Dante! How nice to see you!” 

“Well, maybe if your boyfriend hadn’t stopped stalking me, you’d be up to date with everything in my life.”

The waitress snatches the menu back up and thwacks him along the back of the head. He can’t help but laugh, seeing Featherine look relatively appalled by the act. Maybe now she knew why he didn’t come there too often anymore.

“You _sure_ you wanna date this clown, hon?” She turns towards Featherine, a frown on her face. “He’s got some nerve. And Dante, you better order a _real_ meal before you order that goddamn dessert of yours.”

“Believe me – I’ve been living with him for a few months now. Anything you can tell me about him wont surprise me.” Featherine smiles, leaning forward over the table. “You should feel glad, he’s taking me here on a date because he wants me to experience some of his _favorite_ restaurants from his youth.”

“I’m a little surprised that you still work here though, Cynthia.” Dante grins, “How _is_ the boyfriend anyway?”

“ _Fiancé._ ” She corrects him, “He proposed to me a few months ago – we’re set to marry next year!”

“Bout time, really.”

“Isaac’s really calmed down. I don’t think you’d recognize him if he were to walk in. Stalking you did him good!” Cindy averts her gaze, “Glad to see _you’re_ finally settling down though, Dante. You’ve had a pretty crazy life – I thought you’d never find a girl.”

He’s turning red much to Featherine’s surprise, looking out towards the window.

“Ah c’mon.” He shoo’s her away. “You keep talkin’ like she’s not sittin’ right here.”

Featherine can’t help but laugh, meeting Cindy’s line of sight.

“Maybe we’ll come back so I can tell you how he picked me up off the street in the middle of the night.” Featherine grins, “He’s quite the romantic.”

“ _Babe_.”

“Off the _street_?” Cindy’s eyes widen. “Oh man – well, I’ll let you guys look over the menu, yeah? I’d hate to intrude on this here _date_.”

“Man, now that you told her that she’s _totally_ gonna eves drop.” Dante hides his face in his hands, “She didn’t even ask for our drinks.”

“Two coffees okay?!”

The young couple turn their heads towards their waitress waving over the bar counter. She smiles as Dante gives a sheepish nod, turning back to her business shortly after.

“I’m not gonna let her nosiness stop me from interrogating you.” Featherine reaches for Dante’s hand, taking it into her own. He’s still in his standard gear, his gunner gloves are smooth to the touch. “I _did_ win that bet, yunno.”

“You sure did.”

“If you’re a good sport, then maybe I’ll get you that ice cream regardless.”

Dante chuckles, intertwining his fingers with her own, meeting her gaze. He’s all hers. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting her to ask, it does make him a bit nervous. He wants to spill _everything_ to her. He’s afraid he’s going to blurt out something stupid and scare her away.

“Whenever we have this discussion, you always talk about settling down.”

He’s frozen, blue eyes staring blankly at the woman in front of him. Fucking of _course_ she would hit the nail on the head almost immediately. He shakes himself out of it, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

“I mean – not fooling around is a _great_ quality to find in a guy, isn’t it? That’s all I mean. I like you a lot and wanna take this somewhere. Relationships have never really been my… forte, I guess. So I’m a little overwhelmed by how much I _want_ to spend time with you. Nobody I’ve been with has ever awoken this feeling in me.”

“I know that’s a bit of a lie – but that’s not really why I’m bringing it up anyway.” Featherine flashes him some bedroom eyes, catching up way off guard.

“Alright – so, then what?”

“What scared your other girlfriends away?”

“I’ve only really dated two other people.” He slumps down in his seat, “I’ve had flings with other women, and men – but I never took any of that seriously. They weren’t in it seriously – so why get into it, yunno?”

“ _That_ does shock me a bit.” She bites her lip, “That you’ve only had long term relationships with two people, I mean.”

“You’re the first person I’ve been with in five or six years.”

“I wanna know, though. You’re very devoted, _very_ loving. Good _at_ loving. Why would anyone leave that behind?”

“C’mon, I’m sure Lady told you our deal.”

“I like to hear both sides of the story. I… I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, though.”

“Nah. It’s not uncomfortable – I wanna be open with you, but I guarantee you I can scare you away too.”

“Well, both Lady and I know about your heritage, so I’m sure it’s not related to that, is it?”

“Lady and I cared about each other a lot. The years we were together were good, but I had this _real_ frequent feeling that if we weren’t together, we’d both die. I’d wanna die, or she’d wanna die. We thrived off each other – it wasn’t healthy, but it worked.”

“Fierce devotion.”

Dante lets go of Featherine’s hand, averting his gaze. He did hate talking about this subject, because it only reminds him of how irresponsible he was as a teenager. He was willing to hurt people he loved in order to ignore the severity of some situations, to keep himself thinking that he was happy.

“I was terrified of losing her as my lover, she was all I had. We were both suffering, a _lot,_ and she’s the one who noticed first.”

She can see the hurt in his eyes. It’s obvious he’s not hung up on the situation, not after all of these years, but the trauma he endured through everything was still there. He felt ashamed of himself.

“We had a scare – missed her period. And like, she was _furious_ – like, tried to murder me angry. She was scared, and kept going on about it, she wasn’t fit for a family, she killed her own father, she couldn’t bear the thought of bringing a kid into this whole mess. We were hardly 20 years old – it was fucked up, I felt terrible.”

“She didn’t tell me any of that.” Featherine pushes Dante’s hair from his face, trying to get a better look at his expression.

“I was scared too, but in the back of my mind – I fuckin’ _loved_ the idea. It’s selfish, I was so alone, yunno. Raised by two parents who showed me _unconditional_ love, and a brother who was an asshole, but got along with me great. Everything until the accident was fantastic – I wanted that again, even if I was the one raising the kid.” He pushes Featherine’s hand away, meeting her gaze once more. “I wasn’t thinking about her.”

He’s quiet for a moment, the waitress catching his attention as she brings them their coffees. She says something about coming back for their orders – obviously, Cindy’s been eves dropping.

“She missed it because of stress, probably. After all that was said and done, she had a serious talk with me. Told me what she wanted out of the relationship – none of it matched up with what I wanted. And I told her everything I did want – she didn’t want things to ever quiet down, she didn’t want to go on dates, didn’t want me to coddle her. Didn’t want marriage, didn’t want kids. That’s all her, and I’d _never_ make her do anything she didn’t want. I was pissed when she broke it off, I didn’t speak to her for a few months – but things picked up. She’s still my best friend, so – things worked out, yeah?”

“I am glad. She’s wonderful – I had no idea that you two went through so much together.” Featherine pulls her hand back, folding them on her lap. She’s having a hard time reading him, she can’t tell why he’s pushing her away suddenly.

“Second relationship was longer, thought I was gonna marry her – then her brother gets killed by swarms of demons, and she can’t look at me the same way. I was one of the creatures that murdered him – she took off not even a day later.”

“You don’t have to worry about me doing that.” She offers him a sheepish smile, “You’re you.”

“Featherine.” He starts, pouring an _alarming_ amount of sugar into his coffee. “It’s like I said when I asked you to date me. I’m serious – I don’t wanna mess around. I like you _so_ much, like I’ve never felt before.”

Violet eyes can’t look away. She sees how he’s avoiding her gaze, messing with his coffee nervously, trying to keep himself occupied.

“All I can think about lately is just makin’ you smile. I never wanna see you cry ever again.” He’s stiff, staring down into his drink. “I _hate_ rushin’ into things. But I’d be happy if I could see your smile until the day I die.”

“Dante…”

“So – if I’m gonna scare you away. Better be now. I want my future to be with you and no one else.” He finally looks back up, he’s gritting his teeth, desperately trying to read her expression.

She’s surprised, of course. She hasn’t touched her own coffee since it was brought to her, and her silence is beginning to make him a little nervous. Featherine stifles a laugh, her face breaking into a gentle smile. He doesn’t know if that means he should relax, or if he should expect her to pack her bags immediately. He wasn’t trying to fuck this up – he was just trying to be honest.

Surely she’d be straight forward. He just wanted to know.

“I’ve never really dated before, Dante. A few whirlwind romances here and there, but nobody’s swept me off my feet the way you have.” She leans forward, “I don’t know why you think this is going to scare me away – we want the same thing. My life’s already a bit crazy, so it’s not like this is anything risky. And after this is done and over with, settling down with you would be like a dream come true.”

He’s dumbfounded, staring at her blankly.

“If this is your way of telling me that you’d like to someday marry and have a family, I’m letting you know that it doesn’t scare me at all. I embrace the idea.”

“Just like that?”

“Is it that weird?”

“Well, Lady dumped me over it.”

Featherine laughs, cocking her head to the side.

“Maybe we’re just lucky that we’re meeting in our thirties then.” She says, relieved to see Dante finally take a sip out of his overly sweetened coffee. “Screw lunch – you’ve been good. I’ll get you that ice cream.”

“See, this is why I’m willing to invest the rest of my life in you.”

* * *

 

“Yunno, once we get into the nicer parts of the city, it’s really not _that_ bad.” 

Nero and Kyrie stroll through the streets of Capulet City hand in hand. Evacuating Fortuna was less than ideal for the two of them, but Nero was trying to think of this as a little vacation – he’s staying with his family that he didn’t get to see often. It just so happens that his family lives in a rather shady part of an otherwise pleasant city.

Maybe he can convince Dante to move out to Fortuna eventually. Since Sanctus had been defeated, the highly religious nature of his hometown had begun to dwindle, if only slightly. Dante wasn’t into the whole worshipping Sparda thing, so it was unlikely, but surely he could afford a nice apartment near him, this way they wouldn’t be hours away from each other.

Kyrie seems to be taking everything in stride, not really phased by the things that were bothering Nero. She’s enjoying the scenery, or maybe she’s just enjoying being with her boyfriend, alone as they explore.

“Dante said he’s been living here for years.” Nero looks forward, scoping out the park that’s not too far ahead of them.

He wasn’t too open about it, but Nero had a lot of creativity flowing through his veins. He had designed his own weaponry, down to the last coat of paint. He was good at practically all of it, often slacked off in schoolwork due to his inability to focus. Instead of studying, he’d be doodling in class. Either way, he wasn’t going to dedicate all of his time to scholarly knowledge; he was determined to follow Credo in his footsteps, and he did a pretty good job.

Had he not been involved with the Order, however, he’d probably be dabbling in illustration somewhere.

Or perhaps photography. He didn’t get a chance to go out with his camera a majority of the time, he was often too busy training or fighting off the demons that roamed the streets of Fortuna.

He and Kyrie took this walk to get acquainted with the area, but as soon as they approached the park, he wanted nothing more than to get a few shots of the scenery.

“Nero, is that a statue of Sparda?” Kyrie points out a statue in the distance.

They’re both a bit surprised. They figured their quaint religious town was the only place to have a figure like that around. It’s old, rusted, the paint’s chipped off, as are some parts of his body. Nero would love to show this off to Fortuna, if only for his own amusement. Nobody knew what Sparda _truly_ looked like, practically all renders of his demon form were different in one way or another. This one made the most sense, as he didn’t have many human features at all. Even his horse didn’t _look_ like a horse.

He wondered if his community would feel offended by this particular statue’s appearance.

He snaps a few photos regardless.

Nero almost wants to ask Dante when they get back. Surely, he has _some_ photos of his father laying around, and surely Sparda didn’t keep his demon form a secret to his family when it was such a huge part of what their family was. Dante would _have_ to have some answers. Nero couldn’t help but be curious.

“Did you ever imagine him like this?” Kyrie asks, stepping onto the platform the statue was mounted on. “Ours looked nothing like this one.”

“It’s ‘cuz he didn’t look like that. He didn’t look like this one either.”

They snap their heads around at the sound of a somewhat familiar voice. They couldn’t go one damn day without any problems.

It’s the girl that had attacked him weeks prior. Goddamn, was she following him _everywhere_?

Nero immediately reaches for Red Queen, instinctively placing his arm in front of Kyrie, as if to protect her from any sort of blow this young girl was going to make.

“Relax, I don’t have any weapons on me. And my dumb abilities aren’t strong enough to do anything besides give you a really nasty papercut.”

She holds out her palm, sprouting a flower, Nero’s eyes widen.

“You’re kidding me.” He mutters, feeling Kyrie tug gently at his sleeve. He lets go of his sword, stepping back beside his girlfriend, making sure to keep their distance.

Now that he’s less alarmed, he gets a better look at her. She looks tired, like she hadn’t slept in _days_. She’s got bruises lined up on her arms and legs. Something wasn’t right.

“Why are you here?” He asks, clenching his fists.

“I wanna thank you.” She averts her gaze, swallowing visibly. “You didn’t kill me that day. You and your friends were… a lot nicer than I thought you’d be.”

Nero and Kyrie are still, watching her for any sudden moves she might make.

“I’m tired. I ran off without them knowing, so it’s not gonna be pretty when I get back – but I wanna tell you some things.”

Kyrie squeezes Nero’s arm, silently urging him to relax. He’s so tense, he didn't realize it. Things have just been so stressful lately he didn’t know any other way to act. She doesn’t have any weapons on her, and he doesn’t know if she’s lying about her abilities, but he’d rather not take any chances.

“Your two friends, the brunette with the short hair, and the blonde clad in leather. They went and found our headquarters, yeah?”

Neither give an answer.

“They saw them. They know something’s up, and they want to take you all out as soon as possible.” The small girl shoves her hands into her pockets, violet eyes nervously looking around. “If they do that, then they don’t have to screw around in two weeks, yeah? When the first day of Spring hits, they want total chaos. And they’re not going to want me after that. They keep saying they’ll make me _normal_ or whatever, but I know it’s not true. There aren’t many of us – humans with demonic blood. But they’re determined to make sure that we don’t exist anymore.”

“Demonic blood… _you_?”

“I’ll tell you anything you wanna know – but they gotta be stopped first. Please…”

“Why are you telling us this? Why turn on them when they’ve been the ones in charge of you this whole time?”

“After the fourth or fifth night of punishment, the brainwashing tends to wear off. And they cut off my medication – I don’t want to go through life pretending to be someone I’m not.”

Kyrie steps forward, much to Nero’s disapproval.

“Was the medication brainwashing you?” She asks, trying to get a better look at the young girl.

“No, no.” She shakes her head. “I-I can’t stay any longer, they’re not going to like it when I get back. But please – you know where we are – I can help you if you make it. I promise I will.”

“Can we have your name, at least?”

“Lydia.”

“I’ll see what I can do, Lydia.”

* * *

 

“Dante, I have to talk to you _immediately_.” 

Nero grabs his uncle by the back of his coat, keeping him from his wine cabinet. Dante’s caught off guard, turning back to get a good look at his nephew’s face. He’s gripping him _tightly_ , and he’s got this worried expression that makes him think he’s not messing around, or overreacting.

He turns his gaze towards Featherine, speaking to Kyrie as they bond over something new. Nero and Kyrie had gotten back from their walk only a little while ago, but Nero was so fidgety and quiet; he was probably looking for a good opportunity to stop Dante and talk to him.

Dante motions towards the kitchen, Nero eagerly pushing past him through the door.

“We gotta go after them.” He cuts right to the chase, leaning against the door, keeping it closed just in case.

“We’re gonna. Lady and Trish told us where they are, but we can’t just _barge_ in there, yunno. We’re pretty obvious targets if they know what they’re lookin’ for.”

“No, we have to leave like _now_.”

“Kid, you can’t just say this shit. What happened, huh? There’s gotta be a reason why you’re so stressed out.”

Nero slumps down to the floor, taking a deep breath. He can _feel_ Dante staring at him, probably about to open his big stupid mouth with some dumb remark.

“She said her name was Lydia. That girl that tried attacking me a few weeks ago. She said her friends saw Trish and Lady spying on them the other night – they wanna take us out as soon as possible. I don’t know how soon that is – but we gotta act on it, real quick.”

“The child?” He asks, “She found you? Did she try to hurt you or anything?”

“No.” Nero finally looks up, meeting his uncle’s stare. “She said they’ve been punishing her, keeping her from her medication or something. She was covered in bruises.”

“How do you know she wasn’t lying, kid?”

“She showed me that she had some special ability – it was exactly like Featherine’s. The purple flowers. I think she wants them all dead.”

“This is just – too convenient, yunno. What if she’s trying to lure us in there?”

“Dante – please. What’s stopping us from trying? The sooner we get rid of them, the faster we can get back to our lives, yeah?”

“You don’t think she’s lying.”

“No.”

Dante nods his head, eyes closing shut as he tries to think.

This was happening a lot faster than he was really ready for. He liked taking his damn sweet time with matters like these, but Nero was right, if the chance was there, it was better to just take it. He was tired of all the goddamn conflict, he just wanted to take a nap at this point and go back to his normal, boring mundane life of dealing the usual freaks in town.

Featherine was a great addition to his life, and he couldn’t blame her for everything that had been going on, but the people after her were so secretive and so _annoying_. They were wasting precious time that he could’ve been spending with her.

“I trust you, kid.” He focuses on his nephew, “These people have overstayed their welcome anyway. We’ll leave tonight – you’re outside my door at 2AM, got it?”

Nero flashes a grin, pushing the kitchen door open.

“You got it.”

“One more thing, Nero.” He steps closer, leaning forward as he hushes his voice. “You don’t tell anybody – Kyrie or Featherine. We’re going alone, okay?”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t want them in danger. We can handle ourselves – Featherine’s been through enough. I don’t want her near them.” Dante glances out the door, spotting the blonde haired woman catch his gaze through the crack. She smiles at him, her face turning red as she looks away. “I’ll let Trish and Lady know whats up – this way, they can keep an eye on the place.”

“If that’s what you want, uncle.”

* * *

 “How many of my old ass comic books have you gone through so far?”

Featherine’s sitting up cross-legged in his bed, flipping through the pages absently. On the nightstand beside her lay dozens of comics. She went to bed a bit early tonight, letting Dante finish up whatever paperwork he had left to do. All of this commotion going on didn’t stop the fact that he _did_ run a business that he begrudgingly had to take care of.

After Nero and Kyrie left after dinner, Dante and Featherine did their share of work, cleaning the place up and setting up shop for the next day. After all of that was done, Featherine left Dante alone to concentrate, even though he was unable to do so at all; he was too preoccupied thinking of ways to end this fight quickly.

He wasn’t worried, he didn't feel like his or Nero’s lives were in danger. He just felt so damn _guilty_ about leaving to do it, even though he was doing it for Featherine’s safety. They could be done in one night, be back by dinner by tomorrow.

Featherine didn’t seem the least bit suspicious though, luckily.

She brings her attention to Dante, watching as he strips off his clothing, preparing to join her.

“I’m almost done.” She says, “They’re not very long. A lot of them are one-shots. You have very specific taste, though.”

“The anti-hero is a _lot_ of fun, what can I say?”

She giggles, setting the comic book aside. He’s changed into his normal sleep-wear, taking his spot beside her on the mattress.

“You and Kyrie get along, huh? I was beginning to worry that Lady and Trish were gonna corrupt the hell out of that poor girl.” He stifles a yawn, throwing the blankets over his and Featherine’s bodies. “I wish they lived a little closer. I only found out Nero was my nephew less than a year ago, but I like seein’ him. This is the most time I’ve spent with him since then.”

“It must’ve been exciting – finding out you have family after all those years.”

“Yeah. I’m his legal guardian too. Jumped on the chance.”

“I didn’t know that – why doesn’t he live with you? Or, why don’t you two move closer together?”

Dante shrugs, laying back on his pillow. He stares vacantly at the ceiling, feeling Featherine position herself next to him.

“We’re both stubborn. Fortuna’s beautiful – he grew up there. I’m not too attached to this place, but I can’t _imagine_ living in a town that worships my old man.”

The small woman props herself up on her elbow, allowing one arm to lay against Dante’s chest. She meets his gaze, unable to hold back a gentle smile.

“Don’t look at me like that – with your damn beautiful eyes n’shit.”

Featherine snorts, nuzzling her face into the fabric of Dante’s crew neck.

“I can’t help it, I’m sorry.” She mumbles, inching closer to her boyfriend as he wraps his arms around her. “Hearing you talk about the things you enjoy makes me so happy. I can listen to it all day.”

“I feel like I never shut _up_ about myself.” He retorts, running his fingers through her long blonde hair. “Why do you put up with me, huh?”

“Because I like you, Dante.”

“Yeah, but do you like _like_ me?”

Featherine pulls herself up, bringing her face closer to his, noses just barely touching.

“I like _like_ like you.”

Dante presses a chaste kiss to her lips, giving her a gentle squeeze as the two adjust themselves underneath the blankets.

“You just made my night, princess.” He grins, “Let’s get some shut-eye. I’m _exhausted_.”

* * *

 

Featherine had been more tired than usual after everything that was going on. She was out like a light by the time her head hit the pillow. Yet something still felt off while she slept. The bed wasn’t as warm as she was used to, there was discomfort that she couldn’t shake. She usually woke up within the hour that Dante got up for work, if not earlier, so she didn’t understand how she managed to sleep through the night at all.

 She’s clutching onto Dante’s pillow when she wakes up, eyes fluttering open to the disappointing sight of her boyfriend being gone. A quick glance at the clock tells her that it’s still fairly early – way too early for Dante to be awake and active.

She gets out of bed, violet eyes still hazy from the sleepiness. She sees that the bathroom is empty, and the door to his room is still closed. Perhaps he didn’t want to wake her if he couldn’t sleep.

His office is pitch black by the time she gets downstairs, none of the lights are on aside from the dull neon sign hanging above his bar.

Dante was a grown man – he could do whatever he wanted with his life, but Featherine couldn’t help but worry at the fact that he disappeared in the middle of the night without a word to her.

She’s shaken up a bit when she hears a gentle knock at the front door, staring at it for a moment before she finally gains the courage to approach it. Kyrie stands at the other side, wearing an elegant nightdress with a bulky, out of place winter jacket draped over her shoulders. She looks just as upset and confused as Featherine is, standing timidly once she’s face to face with the older woman.

“I-I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t wake you. I have a key, but I didn’t want to just… barge in.”

Featherine shakes her head, stepping aside to allow Kyrie in from the cold.

“Did Nero leave?”

Kyrie turns to face Featherine, biting her lip. She nods, discarding her jacket on the coat rack. She reaches into it’s pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper, handing it to Featherine before she goes to take a seat on the couch.

“It says that he and Dante were called to do a mission – it was urgent.”

Featherine reads the letter, it’s short and doesn’t explain much. Kyrie summed it up quite well.

“Dante isn’t here, so I guess Nero wasn’t lying.” Featherine ran her fingers through her bangs, pushing her hair from her face. “Dante didn’t leave me a note, though. It’s a bit strange.”

Kyrie nods, folding her hands on her lap as she looks to the window. She seems tired, nervous.

“I’m glad he left a note, but I get really scared when he just goes off like that. I’ve been trying to sleep, but I can’t when he’s not home.”

Featherine offers a gentle smile, taking a seat next to Kyrie on the couch.

“I’m the same way – but I’m sure they wont be gone long, yeah?” She gives Kyrie a reassuring pat on the shoulder, “We can have a girls night in. Let’s keep each other company, sound good?”

Kyrie smiles in return, “I’d like that.”


End file.
